


I Want To Hold Your Hand - Book One

by orphan_account



Series: I Want To Hold Your Hand Verse [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 1: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Hogwarts Era, Humor, M/M, Multi, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-09-24 04:56:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20352751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: What if Harry Potter had taken Draco Malfoy's hand that day on the train?Literally me just re-writing Harry Potter from the beginning to make it gay.The plan is to have this be a series and have this first fic cover book 1.Draco still ends up in Slytherin and things will mostly follow the broad events of canon, except this time the Slytherins are treated as people.





	1. DIAGON ALLEY and THE JOURNEY FROM PLATFORM NINE AND THREE-QUARTERS and THE SORTING HAT

Madam Malkin was a squat, smiling witch dressed all in mauve.

‘Hogwarts, dear?’ she said, when Harry started to speak. ‘Got the lot here – another young man being fitted up just now, in fact.’

In the back of the shop, a boy with a pale pointed face was standing on a footstool in the middle of having long, black robes pinned up. Madam Malkin stood Harry on a stool next to him, slipped another long robe over his head and began to pin it to the right length.

‘Hullo,’ said the boy, ‘Hogwarts too?’

‘Yes,’ said Harry, trying not to wobble so much on the stool. He didn’t want to embarrass himself at Hogwarts before he even got there.

‘My father’s next door buying my books and Mother’s up the street looking at wands,’ said the boy. He had a bored, drawling voice. ‘Then I’m going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don’t see why first-years can’t have their own. I think I’ll bully Father into getting me one and I’ll smuggle it in somehow.’

Harry was strongly reminded of Dudley until he noticed Madam Malkin move a pin too far too the left and saw the boy flinch and pull the most un-Dudley-like face Harry had ever seen. The boy caught Harry’s eye and went red, turning his face away and trying to move on valiantly.

“Have _you _got your own broom?’ the boy asked.

‘No,’ said Harry.

‘Play Quidditch at all?’

‘No,’ Harry said again, wondering what on earth Quidditch could be.

‘_I _do – Father says it’s a crime if I’m not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. Know what house you’ll be in yet?’

‘No,’ said Harry, feeling more stupid by the minute. The way this boy spoke it seemed Harry wouldn’t get through five minutes at Hogwarts before they kicked him out.

‘Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I’ll be in Slytherin, all our family have been – imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I’d leave, wouldn’t you?’

‘Mmm,’ said Harry, wishing he could say something a bit more interesting or at least stop feeling like a complete prat compared to the blonde boy.

‘I say, look at that man!’ said the boy suddenly, nodding towards the front window. Hagrid was standing there, grinning at Harry and pointing at two large ice-creams to show he couldn’t come in.

‘That’s Hagrid,’ said Harry, pleased to know something the boy didn’t. ‘He works at Hogwarts.’

‘Oh,’ said the boy, ‘I’ve heard of him. He’s a sort of servant, isn’t he?’

‘He’s the gamekeeper,’ said Harry. He was liking this boy less and less.

‘Yes, exactly. I heard he’s a sort of _savage _– lives in a hut in the school grounds and every now and then he gets drunk, tries to do magic and ends up setting fire to his bed.’

‘I think he’s brilliant,’ said Harry coldly.

‘_Do _you?’ said the boy with a slight sneer. ‘Why is he with you? Where are your parents?’

‘They’re dead,’ said Harry shortly. He didn’t feel much like going into the matter with this boy.

‘Oh, sorry,’ said the other, not sounding sorry at all. He seemed distracted as he watched a man walk up beside the shop window. ‘But they were _our _kind, weren’t they?’

‘They were a witch and a wizard if that’s what you mean.’

‘I really don’t think they should let the other sort in, do you? They’re just not the same, they’ve never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, imagine. I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families. What’s your surname, anyway?’

But before Harry could answer, the bell above the door to the shop rung as a tall, imposing man walked in. He was carrying a cane and had long white-blonde hair almost exactly like the boy next to Harry.

‘Draco, I told you to be done by now. You needn’t be wasting time being fitted for casual robes,’ the tall man admonished immediately and then turned abruptly to Madam Malkin, ‘Take these away,’ he said, dismissively shoving the blue and purple robes that had been piled next to the boy at Madam Malkin.

‘Father, please,’ the boy, Draco, said quietly, the drawl having completely left his voice. He was pointedly not looking at Harry. He seemed embarrassed. Harry couldn’t picture Draco actually bullying his father into buying him anything.

‘No Draco,’ the man’s voice was like ice. ‘Malfoy’s uphold tradition. You would look practically Muggleborn in that common fashion they sell to lesser stock.’ His lip curled at this as he glanced around the room, as though daring Madam Malkin to speak. As he did so, his cold stare finally found Harry.

‘And who do we have here,’ the man leered. Draco looked back at Harry finally and said quietly.

‘He’s another first year like me, father.’

‘Oh, dear,’ the father eyed the too large, torn jeans poking out the bottom of the robes draped on Harry. ‘This one really does dress like a _Muggle_.’ The man spat the last word out like a curse. ‘Come on Draco, your robes can be delivered. We won’t have you associating with mudbloods.’ The man swept around sharply, shoved a card at Madam Malkin, and then headed for the door, not deigning to look at Harry a moment longer.

Harry had no idea what mudblood meant but the man had said it with such hatred that he knew it had to be very bad.

‘Well, I’ll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose,’ the boy said softly, before he stepped off his footstool and out of his robes. He seemed to take a moment, standing very still before turning to walk past Madam Malkin, raising his pointed chin in the air once again and attempting to resume his earlier bored demeanour.

‘Get out of the way, you oaf,’ Harry heard Draco’s father hiss at Hagrid as he stormed from the shop, Draco trailing behind. Harry caught Hagrid’s eye and wondered what on earth had just happened.

That’s you done, my dear,’ Madam Malkin said quietly and Harry shakily got down from the footstool as she started packing up his things.

* * *

Harry was rather quiet as he ate the ice-cream Hagrid had bought him (chocolate and raspberry with chopped nuts).

‘What’s up?’ said Hagrid.

‘Nothing,’ Harry lied. They stopped to buy parchment and quills. Harry cheered up a bit when he found a bottle of ink that changed colour as you wrote. When they had left the shop, he said, ‘Hagrid what’s Quidditch?’

‘Blimey, Harry, I keep forgettin’ how little yeh know – not knowin’ about Quidditch!’

‘Don’t make me feel worse,’ said Harry. He told Hagrid about the pale boy in Madam Malkin’s.

‘ – and he said people from Muggle families shouldn’t even be allowed in –'

‘Yer not _from _a Muggle family. If he’d known who yeh _were _– he’s grown up knowin’ yer name, and if his father is Lucius Malfoy, he would’ve heard it more than most! All wizardin’ folk know yeh – you saw ‘em in the Leaky Cauldron. Anyway, what do they know about it, some o’ the best I ever saw were the only ones with magic in ‘em in a long line o’ Muggles – look at yer mum! Look what she had fer a sister!’

‘So what _is _Quidditch?’

‘It’s our sport. Wizard sport. It’s like – like football in the Muggle world – everyone follows Quidditch – played up in the air on broomsticks and there’s four balls – sorta hard ter explain the rules.’

‘And what are Slytherin and Hufflepuff?’

‘School houses. There’s four. Everyone says Hufflepuff are a lot o’ duffers, but –'

‘I bet I’m in Hufflepuff,’ said Harry gloomily.

‘Better Hufflepuff than Slytherin,’ said Hagrid darkly. ‘There’s not a single witch or wizard who went bad who wasn’t in Slytherin. You-Know-Who was one. That nasty piece o’ work Lucius Malfoy was as well.’

‘Vol – sorry – You-Know-Who was at Hogwarts?’

‘Years an’ years ago,’ said Hagrid.

‘And Hagrid,’ Harry asked, ‘what’s a mudblood?’

‘He didn’!’ Hagrid growled. ‘That Lucius Malfoy has another thing comin’ to him – why, callin’ Harry Potter – _the_ Harry Potter –‘

‘Uh – Hagrid,’ Harry said.

‘Right, sorry Harry,’ Hagrid tried to calm himself down, ‘it’s just a really foul name for someone who was Muggleborn.’

‘He said that word too,’ Harry said.

‘Ay, that’s someone with non-magic parents,’ Hagrid explained.

Hagrid grabbed Harry’s arm and suddenly looked very serious, ‘There are some wizards, Harry – like the Malfoys – who think they’re better than everyone else because they’re what people call pure-blood.’ Hagrid’s face grew darker still, ‘It’s utter tosh, Harry, it doesn’t make a bit o’ difference but some put a lot o' stock in it.’

‘Then why is it so important to them, Hagrid,’ Harry asked. The wizarding world was turning out to be very confusing.

‘It makes ‘em feel better about ‘emselves I suppose,’ Hagrid said shrugging. ‘It gives 'em an excuse to treat others badly.’ At this, Hagrid seemed to be thinking very deeply. Finally, he said, ‘I didn't go to school with Lucius, he was a few years behind me - thank goodness - but he's on the board o' governors, yeh know, and he’s never missed an opportunity to point out when someone ain’t - _pure_.’

Harry could tell that Hagrid had had run-ins with the Malfoys before - and, from the way Harry saw Hagrid's face darken, they couldn't have been pleasant. He was really worried now, ‘Hagrid, are the Malfoys dangerous?’

‘Lucius definitely is.’

‘Right,’ said Harry finally, ‘when I get to Hogwarts I’m steering clear of the lot of them. I thought Draco didn’t seem that bad but with a father like that –‘

‘What?’ Hagrid said suddenly, ‘no, I never said anythin’ about Draco.’

‘Hagrid, you just said his father’s dangerous!’ Harry exclaimed.

‘Exactly, Harry, I said his _father_ !’

Harry just looked at Hagrid confused.

Hagrid took a deep breath. ‘It might be foolish, Harry, but I still think people can turn out different from family.’ Hagrid put his dust-bin lid sized hand gently on Harry’s shoulder. ‘Promise, me you’ll remember that, Harry. It ain’t only down to blood. Muggleborns prove that - _I_ prove that.’

Harry just nodded, more uncertain than ever but feeling that he should trust Hagrid when he looked up and saw his eyes sparkling.

‘I promise.’

* * *

A scarlet steam engine was waiting next to a platform packed with people. A sign overhead said _Hogwarts Express, 11 o’clock_. Harry looked behind him and saw a wrought-iron archway where the ticket box had been, with the words _Platform Nine and Three-Quarters _on it. He had done it.

Smoke from the engine drifted over the heads of the chattering crowd, while cats of every colour wound here and there between their legs. Owls hooted to each other in a disgruntled sort of way over the babble and the scraping of heavy trunks.

The first few carriages were already packed with students, some hanging out of the window to talk to their families, some fighting over seats. Harry pushed his trolley off down the platform in search of an empty seat. He passed a round-faced boy who was saying, ‘Gran, I’ve lost my toad again.’

‘Oh, _Neville_,’ he heard the old woman sigh.

A boy with dreadlocks was surrounded by a small crowd.

‘Give us a look, Lee, go on.’

The boy lifted the lid of a box in his arms and the people around him shrieked and yelled as something inside poked out a long hairy leg.

Harry passed on through the crowd and spotted a bright patch of white-blond hair and saw the boy from Madam Malkins with his father and a woman that was presumably his mother, standing a few carriages away. Harry caught the boy’s eye through the crowd and gave a small smile. The boy’s lip twitched before he turned round to face his family.

* * *

‘What’s your Quidditch team?’ Ron asked.

‘Er – I don’t know any,’ Harry confessed.

‘What!’ Ron looked dumbfounded. ‘Oh, you wait, it’s the best game in the world –'

And he was off, explaining all about the four balls and the positions of the seven players, describing famous games he’s been to with his brothers and the broomstick he’d like to get if he had the money. He was just taking Harry through the finer points of the game when the compartment door slid open yet again, but it wasn’t Neville the toadless boy or Hermione Granger this time.

Three boys entered and Harry recognised the middle one at once: it was the pale boy from before, Draco Malfoy. He was looking at Harry with far more interest than he had shown back in Diagon Alley.

‘Is it true?’ he said. ‘They’re saying all down the train that Harry Potter’s in this compartment. So it’s you, is it?’

‘Yes,’ said Harry. He was looking at the other boys. Both of them were thickset and looked extremely mean. Standing either side of the pale boy they looked like bodyguards.

‘Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle,’ said the pale boy carelessly, noticing where Harry was looking. ‘And my name’s Malfoy, Draco Malfoy.’

Ron gave a slight cough, which might have been hiding a snigger. Draco Malfoy looked at him.

‘Think my name’s funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles and more children than they can afford.’

His father again, Harry thought, he certainly seemed to try and act like him. But Harry remembered Draco’s tiny smile from earlier. He hoped Hagrid was right.

Draco Malfoy turned back to Harry.

‘You’ll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don’t want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there.’

He held out his hand to shake Harry’s.

‘I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks,’ said Harry, he took a breath and stood up, ‘and I don’t think they’re either of you,’

Ron and Draco both gaped at him. Harry looked at the large boys flanking either side of Malfoy and screwed up whatever bravery he could find and walked towards him. He remembered what Hagrid had said. He remembered what he had promised him. He may be foolish but he stood his ground and took Draco’s hand.

Harry stared up defiantly at Draco, who’s gaze was confused but underneath it, Harry could almost see something more. Something a lot softer.

Ron had been watching the entire exchange in horror. ‘Harry are you mad? Do you know who he is? Draco Malfoy! And his father – '

‘Don’t say one word about my father, Weasley,’ Draco seethed. He was still looking at Harry and gripping his hand, rather tightly now.

‘Why should I stay, Potter, if you plan to associate with the son of a blood traitor?’ Malfoy sneered at Ron and finally let go of Harry’s hand.

‘Because neither of you are your fathers,’ Harry said simply. He was disappointed that Malfoy had reverted to his previous haughtiness, but he had a caught a flash of something that made him press on.

‘I would like to know both of you,’ Harry said simply and he promptly sat back down and started opening another pumpkin pasty.

Ron stared openly at him before slowly turning towards Malfoy. He sized up Crabbe and Goyle, took a step forward, seemed to think better of it, and then settled on locking eyes with Malfoy and giving him the slightest of nods. Draco looked back for a moment and then returned it. This seemed to satisfy them both and Ron sat back down, narrowly missing squashing Scabbers, and resumed devouring a half-eaten chocolate frog.

Draco looked at Harry once more and gave him an ever so slightly uncomfortable smile before saying. ‘Well, we best get back to our compartment. It looks like we’ll be arriving soon.’ He started ushering Crabbe and Goyle out, both of whom had flummoxed looks fixed upon their faces as they numbly filed down the passage.

‘See you around, Potter,’ Draco said finally before following them out the door.

* * *

‘Bloody hell,’ Ron breathed. ‘You’ve met Malfoy before then?’

‘And his father,’ said Harry, and he explained about their meeting in Diagon Alley.

‘I’ve heard of his family,’ said Ron darkly. ‘They were some of the first to come back to our side after You-Know-Who disappeared. Said they’d been bewitched. My dad doesn’t believe it. He says Malfoy’s father didn’t need an excuse to go over to the Dark Side.’ Ron looked worriedly at Harry, ‘Are you sure you know what you’re doing? His entire family is dangerous.’

‘I have to give him a chance.’ Harry said, but Ron still looked unconvinced.

‘However horribly Draco acts, I think his father is worse.’ Harry said darkly, remembering how coldly Lucius had spoken towards Draco. Harry knew what that was like.

They both sat in silence for a while after that until they heard footsteps once again approaching their compartment.

‘What _has _been going on?’ said Hermione Granger, at the door once again.

* * *

A horrible thought struck Harry, as horrible thoughts always do when you’re very nervous. What if he wasn’t chosen at all? What if he just sat there with the hat over his eyes for ages, until Professor McGonagall jerked it off his head and said there had obviously been a mistake and he’d better get back on the train?

When Neville Longbottom, the boy who kept losing his toad, was called, he fell over on his way to the stool. The hat took a long time to decide with Neville. When it finally shouted ‘GRYFFINDOR’, Neville ran off still wearing it, and had to jog back amid gales of laughter to give it to ‘MacDougal, Morag’.

Draco Malfoy swaggered forward when his name was called and Harry saw Ron roll his eyes. Harry wondered if Malfoy would get his wish. As the hat was placed over Malfoy’s head, it opened its flap to speak immediately but promptly shut it again just as Draco looked over and locked eyes with Harry. It was only a second and then Draco was staring at the floor very intensely.

The hat took a long time after that, until it eventually screamed, ‘SLYTHERIN!’

As Malfoy went off to join Crabbe and Goyle, Ron gave Harry a very pointed look. Harry himself didn’t want to think what Malfoy being a Slytherin meant. He still hoped he was right, but Malfoy was definitely aiming to follow in his father’s footsteps.

Harry was so distracted that he hardly noticed that there weren’t many people left now.

‘Moon’ … ‘Nott’ … ‘Parkinson’ … then a pair of twin girls, ‘Patil’ and ‘Patil’ … then ‘Perks, Sally-Anne’ … and then, at last –

‘Potter, Harry!’

As Harry stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall.

‘_Potter_, did she say?’

‘_The _Harry Potter?’

The last thing Harry saw before the hat dropped over his eyes was the Hall full of people craning to get a good look at him. Next second he was looking at the black inside of the hat. He waited.

‘Hmm,’ said a small voice in his ear. ‘Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind, either. There’s talent, oh my goodness, yes – and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that’s interesting … So where shall I put you?’

Harry gripped the edges of the stool and remembered Lucius Malfoy’s sneer, ‘Not Slytherin, not Slytherin.’

‘Not Slytherin, eh? Funny – the other one asked just the opposite.’

Harry had no clue what that meant, until he remembered Draco’s turn with the hat.

‘Oh, yes,’ said the hat. ‘So _loyal_ that one, could have been Hufflepuff but in the end Slytherin was the best fit. You two are very similar you know. Are you sure you don’t want Slytherin?’

Harry gulped. He wasn’t Malfoy, he wasn’t going to be swayed.

‘You could be great you know, it’s all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that – no? Well, if you’re sure – better be GRYFFINDOR!’

* * *

When they all jumped into their four-poster beds Harry was going to ask Ron if he’d had any of the treacle tart, but he fell asleep almost at once.

Perhaps Harry had eaten a bit too much, because he had a very strange dream. He was wearing Professor Quirrell’s turban, which kept talking to him, telling him he must transfer to Slytherin at once, because it was his destiny. Harry told the turban he didn’t want to be in Slytherin; it got heavier and heavier; he tried to pull it off but it tightened painfully – and there was Draco Malfoy, trying to help him pull the hat off – then Draco turned into the hook-nosed teacher, Snape, whose laugh became high and cold – there was a burst of green light and Harry woke, sweating and shaking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: A big thank you to Midnight_Clover for reminding me that Hagrid and Lucius would not have gone to school together. I've attempted to fix that error and hopefully it all makes more sense now.
> 
> I thought it was best to have Harry meet Lucius Malfoy in book one. I truly think that in canon, had he known who Lucius was from the beginning, he would have absolutely not judged Draco as harshly. I don't think Harry and Draco experienced the same sort of abuse but I think there are very noticeable similarities between the two.
> 
> As for Harry's conversation with Hagrid, I've always had a hard time believing that Hagrid of all people would judge or condemn Draco, considering his own background and the false accusations Hagrid himself has had to put up with (at least before the events of POA - don't mess with Buckbeak). I also thought that Hagrid would definitely be more sensitive to predjudice. I imagine him thinking of Sirius when he says, 'It might be foolish, Harry, but I still think people can turn out differently from their family,' and although he still thinks Sirius is guilty, he knows (because of muggleborns, because of his own family) that that is only one particular case. (I'm actually really proud of this scene, can you tell?)
> 
> I just had to indulge and have the Sorting Hat talk to Harry about Draco. I've always pictured the parallel between Harry desperately wishing to not be in Slytherin and Draco desperately wishing the opposite. 
> 
> As for why Draco is still sorted into Slytherin and not in Gryffindor like Sirius was - I think they again are very different situations, Sirius and Harry both suffered similar cases of abuse in that they could freely hate their abusers but with Draco, it is far more complex. He loves his parents, and they love him and so it is that much harder to go against them and so he remains loyal to his family.
> 
> Sorry for such a long author's note. This isn't my first fanfic but it's been awhile and it's the first one I've written alone and on this account. Feel free to tell me if you like how I've decided to set out the story (just taking specific scenes from the books) and tell me if you think I should change it as I'm unsure if it makes a compelling read. I might come back and switch it up at some point after I've gotten further into the story to keep things interesting. 
> 
> Bye for now, and I'll try post by next week.
> 
> Find me on tumblr: etinao3ego.tumblr.com


	2. THE POTIONS MASTER and THE MIDNIGHT DUEL

Friday was an important day for Harry and Ron. They finally managed to find their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast without getting lost once. Harry surveyed the Hall in triumph as he entered and waved at Draco at the Slytherin table. As usual, he was sandwiched between the hulking Crabbe and Goyle, but he nodded back at Harry before his attention was captured by a girl with short black hair, sitting across from him.

Harry hadn’t spent much time with Draco, they only had a few classes together, and Draco himself always seemed to be flanked by his two body guards. However, he had rather enjoyed sitting next to him during his second History of Magic lesson. Draco was surprisingly good at drawing funny little cartoons and had taught Harry the spell to animate them.

‘What have we got today?’ Harry asked Ron as he poured sugar on his porridge.

‘Double Potions with the Slytherins,’ said Ron. ‘Snape’s Head of Slytherin house. They say he always favours them – we’ll be able to see if it’s true.’

‘Wish McGonagall favoured us,’ said Harry. Professor McGonagall was Head of Gryffindor house, but it hadn’t stopped her giving them a huge pile of homework the day before.

* * *

It was lucky Harry had tea with Hagrid to look forward to, because the Potions lesson turned out to be the worst thing that had happened to him so far.

At the start-of-term banquet, Harry had got the idea that Professor Snape disliked him. By the end of the first Potions lesson, he knew he’d been wrong. Snape didn’t dislike Harry – he _hated _him.

Potions lessons took place in one of the dungeons. It was colder here than up in the main castle and would have been quite creepy enough without the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls.

Snape, like Flitwick, started the class by taking the register, and like Flitwick, he paused at Harry’s name.

‘Ah, yes,’ he said softly, ‘Harry Potter. Our new – _celebrity_.’

Crabbe and Goyle sniggered behind their hands and Draco Malfoy gave an aborted sort of cough. Harry turned around to glare at him and Draco put up his hands and mouthed “sorry”.

Snape paused as he noticed this exchange, then looked up at the class and finished calling the names. His eyes were black like Hagrid’s, but they had none of Hagrid’s warmth. They were cold and empty and made you think of dark tunnels.

* * *

‘Potter!’ said Snape suddenly. ‘What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?’

_Powdered root of what to an infusion of what? _Harry glanced at Ron, who looked as stumped as he was; Hermione’s hand had shot into the air.

‘I don’t know, sir,’ said Harry.

Snape’s lips curled into a sneer.

‘Tut, tut – fame clearly isn’t everything.’

He ignored Hermione’s hand.

‘Let’s try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?’

Hermione stretched her hand as high into the air as it would go without her leaving her seat, but Harry didn’t have the faintest idea what a bezoar was. He tried to ignore Crabbe and Goyle behind him, who were shaking with laughter when he heard, ‘Psst,’ and felt a foot kick his chair.

Harry didn’t dare look away from Snape but made sure he didn’t jump when a note was pressed into his hand. Harry tried to open the paper quietly as Snape looked at Hermione, who was straining her hand up towards the ceiling. The note had a hastily drawn goat and an arrow pointing to a stone in it’s stomach.

‘Goat’s stomach?’ Harry said to himself, confused.

But Snape had heard him and whipped his head around to stare at Harry disbelievingly until he spotted the note.

‘What's this?' Snape sneered down at the note, 'Thought you wouldn’t open a book before coming, eh, Potter? Figured you’d rely on sycophants like Weasley to give you the answers? Five points from Gryffindor.’

Harry forced himself to keep looking into those cold eyes. He _had _looked through his books at the Dursleys’, but did Snape expect him to remember everything in _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_?

Snape was still ignoring Hermione’s quivering hand.

‘Alright, one more Potter - and Weasley, however surprised I might be to find that you actually know something, don’t you dare try to help.’

Ron just gaped at Snape and Harry heard Draco let out a laugh that had Ron turning bright red.

‘What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?’

At this, Hermione stood up, her hand stretching towards the dungeon ceiling.

‘I don’t know,’ said Harry quietly. ‘I think Hermione does, though, why don’t you try her?’

A few people laughed; Draco made a muffled noise as he tried to stop himself. Harry pushed his foot back and kicked at Draco’s chair. Seamus caught his eye and winked. Snape, however, was not pleased.

‘Sit down,’ he snapped at Hermione. ‘For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A _bezoar_,’ Snape said this word particularly viciously, ‘is indeed a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren’t you copying that down?’

There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment. Over the noise, Snape said, ‘And a point will be taken from Gryffindor house for your cheek, Potter.’

Things didn’t improve for the Gryffindors as the Potions lesson continued. Snape put them all into pairs and set them to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils. He swept around in his long black cloak, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticising almost everyone except Draco, whom he seemed to like and who preened under the attention.

* * *

As they climbed the steps out of the dungeon an hour later, Harry’s mind was racing and his spirits were low. He’d already lost two points from Gryffindor in his very first week – _why did Snape hate him so much?_

‘Cheer up,’ said Ron, ‘I lost five and I didn’t even do anything! Snape’s always taking points off Fred and George. At least he thinks I know lots about potions. By the way,’ Ron stopped Harry on the stairs and turned to look at him, ‘who actually gave you the note?’

‘Draco,’ Harry said, suddenly remembering and perking up.

Ron looked flabbergasted, ‘_Malfoy_?’ he said in disbelief, ‘but he was laughing at you the entire time? Harry – where are you going?’ Ron shouted after Harry, who had started bolting up the stairs.

Harry came to a stop at the top of the stairs where Draco was stood, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle as usual, with the dark-haired girl from breakfast. Draco raised his eyebrow as Ron came stumbling up the stairs after Harry.

‘Hey, Draco,’ Harry said, eyeing the other Slytherins, ‘just wanted to say thanks for the note.’

‘What note?’ Draco said, as nonchalant as ever. The dark-haired girl gave Draco a strange look but he wouldn’t meet her eyes. Harry just stared at Draco and thought he could see something like a warning flash in his eyes. _Right_, thought Harry, _that’s how this is going to be then._

‘Uh – lovely chatting to you all,’ Ron said, breaking the uncomfortable silence, ‘but we’d better get going. Harry, is it okay if I come meet Hagrid with you?’

But Harry wasn’t going to give up that easily. ‘You should come too,’ Harry said to Draco.

At this, Draco turned pale and looked very uncomfortable. ‘I – uh – have plans,’ he mumbled and then grabbed the girl’s hand and pulled her away. Crabbe and Goyle glared at Harry and Ron before they turned and followed.

‘Charming,’ Ron said.

* * *

Harry told Hagrid about Snape’s lesson. Hagrid, like Ron, told Harry not to worry about it; that Snape hardly liked any of the students.

‘But he seemed to really _hate _me.’

‘Rubbish!’ said Hagrid. ‘Why should he?’

Yet Harry couldn’t help thinking that Hagrid didn’t quite meet his eyes when he said that. He got even more suspicious when Hagrid quickly changed the subject.

‘Decent o’ Malfoy to send you that note though.’

Harry still had it, sitting in his book bag. ‘Yeah, but I dunno why he wouldn’t admit to it afterwards.’ He told Hagrid about his and Ron’s strange encounter with the Slytherins.

‘Well, yeh can’t exactly blame him, Harry. What with his father, bein’ the way he is, and with Snape bein’ his godfather.’

At this, Ron spat out his tea. ‘His _what_?’ Ron gasped, when he finished choking.

‘How’s yer brother Charlie?’ Hagrid asked, hastily changing the topic once again.

Harry hardly payed attention to the rest of the conversation. Snape – _Snape - _was Draco Malfoy’s godfather? Harry supposed that was why he singled Draco out so much, but _really? _Draco’s family was shaping up to be even worse than Harry’s! Harry was just picturing Snape meeting Uncle Vernon – they would probably have a grand time talking about what a waste of space Harry was – when he noticed the newspaper cutting in front of him. It was from the _Daily Prophet_.

* * *

Harry had never believed he would have friends at school when he was living with the Dursleys and being tormented by Dudley and his gang, but by his second week of Hogwarts he already had a best friend in Ron and an at least friendly acquaintance with Draco. Harry had never had so many people to talk to in his life. It was still difficult to spend time with Draco without other Slytherins hovering and at times Draco would revert to his old, haughty demeanour if he became aware that other people were watching but all in all, Harry had never been so happy. Or at least he was happy, until he spotted a notice pinned up in the Gryffindor common room which made him groan. Flying lessons would be starting on Thursday – and Gryffindor and Slytherin would be learning together.

‘Typical,’ said Harry darkly. ‘Just what I always wanted. To make a fool of myself in front of Malfoy.’

He had been looking forward to learning to fly more than anything else, but he had also been dreading it.

‘You don’t know you’ll make a fool of yourself,’ said Ron reasonably. ‘Anyway, I know Malfoy’s always going on about how good he is at Quidditch, but I bet that’s all talk.’

Draco certainly did talk about flying a lot. That was half the reason Harry was so excited about it. He had told him so many amazing stories that now Harry was itching to get in the air and try it himself, but definitely not in front of Ron or Draco, who both seemed to know what they were doing.

Draco complained loudly about first-years never getting in the house Quidditch teams and he and Ron told long, boastful stories to one another, constantly trying to out do the other. Draco’s stories always seemed to end with him narrowly escaping Muggles in helicopters and Ron would tell anyone who’d listen about the time he’d almost hit a hang-glider on Charlie’s old broom.

Draco and Ron weren’t the only ones, though: the way Seamus Finnigan told it, he’d spent most of his childhood zooming around the countryside. Everyone from wizarding families talked about Quidditch constantly. Ron had already had a big argument with Dean Thomas, who shared their dormitory, about football. Ron couldn’t see what was exciting about a game with only one ball where no one was allowed to fly. Draco had gone very quiet during that conversation, pretending to read his copy of _Hogwarts: A History _but doing a poor job of remembering to turn the pages. Draco had at least laughed when Harry told him about finding Ron prodding Dean’s poster of West Ham football, trying to make the players move.

Neville had never been on a broomstick in his life, because his grandmother had never let him near one. Privately, Harry felt she’d had good reason, because Neville managed to have an extraordinary number of accidents even with both feet on the ground.

Hermione Granger was almost as nervous about flying as Neville was. This was something you couldn’t learn by heart out of a book – not that she hadn’t tried. At breakfast on Thursday she bored them all stupid with flying tips she’d got out of a library book called _Quidditch Through the Ages_, Neville was hanging on to her every word, desperate for anything that might help him hang on to his broomstick later, when everybody else was very pleased when Hermione’s lecture was interrupted by the arrival of the post.

Harry hadn’t had a single letter since Hagrid’s note, something Draco had been quick to notice, of course. Draco’s eagle owl was always bringing him packages of sweets from home which he opened gloatingly at the Slytherin table. He always tried to sneak a few of the sweets into Harry’s book bag while he wasn’t looking, but so far Harry had fended him off. Ron just took the sweets - Harry thought it was one of the main reasons he tolerated Draco.

A barn owl had brought Neville a small package from his grandmother. He opened it excitedly and showed them a glass ball the size of a large marble, which seemed to be full of white smoke.

‘It’s a Remembrall!’ he explained. ‘Gran knows I forget things – this tells you if there’s something you’ve forgotten to do. Look, you hold it tight like this and if it turns red – oh …’ His face fell, because the Remembrall had suddenly glowed scarlet.

‘You’ve forgotten something,’ Draco said in his drawling voice. He had sauntered over while Neville was opening his package and as ever, he was followed by Crabbe and Goyle.

Harry didn’t understand why Draco still insisted on using that voice. Crabbe and Goyle snickered behind him. Seamus tensed up, he still thought Harry was mad for talking to Draco, but Professor McGonagall, who could spot trouble quicker than any teacher in the school was there in a flash.

‘What’s going on?’

‘Neville’s just got a Remembrall, Professor,’ Draco said innocently.

Professor McGonagall gave him a withering stare but eventually seemed to decide that things weren’t falling apart just yet.

‘Well, in any case, the lot of you should be finishing up now, it’s almost time for class.’

And so Draco sloped away with Crabbe and Goyle behind him.

* * *

Madam Hooch was bending over Neville, her face as white as his.

‘Broken wrist,’ Harry heard her mutter.

‘Come on, boy – it’s all right, up you get.’

She turned to the rest of the class.

‘None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you’ll be out of Hogwarts before you can say “Quidditch”. Come on, dear.’

Neville, his face tear-streaked, clutching his wrist, hobbled off with Madam Hooch, who had her arm around him.

No sooner were they out of earshot than the Slytherins burst into laughter.

‘Did you see his face, the great lump?’ said Theodore Nott, a tall Slytherin boy who sometimes sat with Draco.

There was more laughter from the Slytherins. Harry noticed that Draco was half-heartedly chuckling.

‘Shut up, Nott,' snapped Parvati Patil.

‘Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?’ said the girl Draco was always with, Pansy Parkinson. ‘Never thought _you’d _like fat little cry babies, Parvati.’

‘Look!’ said Malfoy, darting forward and snatching something out of the grass. ‘It’s that stupid Remembrall Longbottom’s gran sent him.’

The Remembrall glittered in the sun as he held it up.

Nott snatched it out of his hand.

‘Give that here, Nott,' said Harry quietly. He was annoyed now, he didn’t know what the Slytherins were playing at.

Everyone stopped talking to watch.

Nott smiled nastily.

‘I think Draco should leave it somewhere for Longbottom to collect – how about – up a tree?’

‘Give it _here_!’ Harry yelled, but before he knew it, Nott had thrown the Remembrall high up into the air and Malfoy had jumped onto his broomstick. He hadn’t been lying, he _could _fly well. The Remembrall was just arcing far up above them, glinting red, as Draco pulled up level to it and snatched it out of the air. The Slytherins below cheered.

‘Hide it on the roof for me, won’t you Malfoy.’ Nott snickered.

Draco paused for a moment, and then shot up higher into the sky.

Harry grabbed his broom.

‘_No_!’ shouted Hermione Granger. ‘Madam Hooch told us not to move – you’ll get us all into trouble.’

Harry ignored her. Blood was pounding in his ears. He mounted the broom and kicked hard against the ground and up, up he soared, air rushed through his hair and his robes whipped out behind him – and in a rush of fierce joy he realised he’d found something he could do without being taught – this was easy, this was _wonderful_. He pulled his broomstick up a little to take it even higher and heard screams and gasps from his classmates back on the ground and an admiring whoop from Ron.

He turned his broomstick sharply to catch up with Malfoy, who stopped and turned around mid-air, looking stunned.

‘Potter, what on earth are you doing up here?’

‘Give it here,’ Harry called, ‘or I’ll knock you off that broom!’

‘Harry – what are you on about? You’ve never flown before, this is dangerous you should get back on the ground!’

‘Yeah, right, Malfoy,’ Harry was shouting now, ‘so you can hide Neville’s Remembrall in peace?’

Before Malfoy could answer, Harry, somehow knowing what to do, grasped the broom tightly in both hands and shot towards Malfoy like a javelin. Malfoy only just got out of the way in time; Harry made a sharp about turn and held the broom steady. A few people below were clapping.

‘Of course I’m going to hide it, Potter,’ Malfoy shouted, looking really annoyed now, ‘Longbottom won’t be able to get at it, but neither will Nott. I’ll come back for it later.’

Harry didn't know what to say to that - he just sat there for a moment, legs dangling off his broom, completely confused.

‘Nott would have just broken it if I didn’t take it away,’ Draco said slowly, with the air of having to explain something to someone really thick.

Harry just stared.

‘Alright, don’t believe me’ Draco said, ‘bloody Gryffindor – want to come help?’

And then Draco shot off towards the astronomy tower and Harry followed.

‘See, perfectly safe,’ Draco said nudging the Remembrall through the window. ‘I’ll come get it right after class.’

It was then that Harry realised that Draco actually knew what he was doing.

‘Uh – sorry,’ Harry said.

‘Uh-huh,’ said Draco. ‘Want to make this entire mess worth it and see how well you can really fly?’

And Draco was off again as Harry followed, speeding towards the class at a rapid rate. Harry saw, as if in slow motion, Draco begin plummeting towards the ground and he tried to keep pace. He leant forwards and pointed his broom handle down as he gathered speed in a deep dive, playing chicken with Draco – wind whistled in his ears, mingled with the screams of people watching – he and Draco were neck and neck. A foot from the ground he saw Draco pull up but he held out for just a second longer before stopping his own broom and toppling gently on to the grass while Draco dismounted far more gracefully beside him.

‘HARRY POTTER! DRACO MALFOY!’

His heart sank faster than he had just dived. Professor McGonagall was running towards them. He got to his feet, trembling.

‘_Never _– in all my time at Hogwarts –‘

Professor McGonagall was almost speechless with shock, and her glasses flashed furiously, ‘ – how _dare _you – might have broken your necks–‘

‘It wasn’t Harry’s fault, Professor –‘

‘Be quiet, Miss Patil –‘

‘But Nott – ‘

‘That’s _enough_, Mr Weasley. Potter, Malfoy, follow me, now.’

Harry caught sight of Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy Parkinson, all trying to catch Draco's eye as they left, walking numbly in Professor McGonagall’s wake as she strode towards the castle. They were going to be expelled, he just knew it. He wanted to say something to defend himself, but there seemed to be something wrong with his voice. Professor McGonagall was sweeping along without even looking at him; he had to jog to keep up. Now he’d done it. He hadn’t even lasted two weeks. He’d be packing his bags in ten minutes. What would the Dursleys say when he turned up on their doorstep? He glanced to his side to see how Draco was doing and nearly tripped. Draco, usually pale, was absolutely white. His hands were clenched in fists at his side and he seemed to be blindly following along after McGonagall, his eyes distant and panicked. _What _would Lucius Malfoy say?

Up the front steps, down the marble staircase inside, and still Professor McGonagall didn’t say a word to them. She wrenched open doors and marched along corridors with Harry and Draco trotting miserably behind her. Maybe she was taking them to Dumbledore. He thought of Hagrid, expelled but allowed to stay on as gamekeeper. Perhaps he could be Hagrid’s assistant. Would Draco help too? He couldn’t see it. His stomach twisted as he imagined it, watching Ron and the others becoming wizards while he stumped around the grounds, carrying Hagrid’s bag - and Draco, off who knows where, with his father.

‘Right,’ Professor McGonagall said finally as they reached the entrance to the dungeons, ‘Mr Malfoy, we’re going to fetch your head of house and then, Potter, you and I are going to get Wood and have a chat.’

Wood? Thought Harry, bewildered; was Wood a cane she was going to use on him? He and Draco exchanged terrified glances.

They followed silently through the dark dungeons and into the potions classroom, which McGonagall swept through and up to a door at the far end. She knocked sharply.

‘Enter,’ said Snape’s greasy voice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The rest of The Midnight Duel will be included in the next chapter. I'm trying to stay around 3500 words per chapter and it seemed a good place to break the original book chapter in half.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this update. I know I said I'd wait a week but I got excited.
> 
> The next update will probably actually take me another week to post as I'm having to make some pretty big decisions regarding laying the groundwork for the rest of this fic. So I'm spending a lot of time plotting and not a lot of time writing.
> 
> Thank you so much to those who commented and left kudos <3 Love me that validation.


	3. THE MIDNIGHT DUEL

‘Excuse me, Professor Flitwick, could I borrow Wood for a moment?’

Harry had followed Professor McGonagall up from the dungeons. They hadn’t spent long in Snape’s office, only staying long enough for McGonagall to explain to Snape what had happened. Harry had spent the entire time trying to avoid looking at Snape’s cold, black eyes, which remained expressionless at hearing what his god son and Harry had done.

They had left Draco in the office, still looking pale, but somehow more resigned. Harry didn’t think Draco would be expelled, especially if Snape had anything to do with it. Still, Harry did not envy him, even as he trailed after McGonagall. She hadn’t seemed that angry when she explained things to Snape but, Harry thought, that might be because she was saving it all for now. Harry still worried _what _exactly “Wood” was.

“Wood” turned out to be a person, a burly fifth-year boy who came out of Flitwick’s class looking confused.

‘Follow me, you two,’ said Professor McGonagall, and they marched on up the corridor. Wood looking curiously at Harry.

‘In here.’

Professor McGonagall pointed them into a classroom which was empty except for Peeves, who was busy writing rude words on the blackboard.

‘Out, Peeves!’ she barked. Peeves threw the chalk into a bin, which clanged loudly, and he swooped out cursing. Professor McGonagall slammed the door behind him and turned to face the two boys.

‘Potter, this is Oliver Wood. Wood – I’ve found you a Seeker.’

Wood’s expression changed from puzzlement to delight.

‘Are you serious, Professor?’

‘Absolutely,’ said Professor McGonagall crisply. ‘The boy’s a natural. I’ve never seen anything like it. Was that your first time on a broomstick, Potter?’

Harry nodded silently. He didn’t have a clue what was going on, but he didn’t seem to be being expelled, and some of the feeling started coming back to his legs.

‘He and Draco Malfoy both managed to pull off a fifty-foot dive,’ Professor McGonagall told Wood. ‘I had heard that Mr. Malfoy was talented on a broom, but Potter here managed to keep up having never so much as flown before! Didn’t even scratch himself. Charlie Weasley couldn’t have done it.’

Wood was now looking as though all his dreams had come true at once.

‘Ever seen a game of Quidditch, Potter?’ he asked excitedly.

‘Wood’s captain of the Gryffindor team,’ Professor McGonagall explained.

‘He’s just the build for Seeker, too,’ said Wood, now walking around Harry and staring at him. ‘Light – speedy – we’ll have to get him a decent broom, Professor – a Nimbus Two Thousand or a Cleansweep Seven, I’d say.’

‘I shall speak to Professor Dumbledore and see if we can’t bend the first-year rule. Heaven knows, we need a better team than last year. _Flattened _in that last match by Slytherin, I couldn’t look Severus Snape in the face for weeks – although, Mr. Malfoy would give them another edge …’

Professor McGonagall peered sternly over her glasses at Harry.

‘I want to hear you’re training hard, Potter, or I may change my mind about punishing you.’

Then she suddenly smiled.

‘Your father would have been proud,’ she said. ‘He was an excellent Quidditch player himself.’

* * *

‘You’re _joking_.’

It was dinner time. Harry had just finished telling Ron what had happened when he’d left the grounds with Professor McGonagall. Ron had a piece of steak-and-kidney pie halfway to his mouth, but he’d forgotten all about it.

‘_Seeker_?’ he said. ‘But first-years _never _– you must be the youngest house player in about –‘

‘ – a century,’ said Harry, shovelling pie into his mouth. He felt particularly hungry after the excitement of the afternoon. ‘Wood told me.’

‘And Malfoy, too, you said?’

This made Harry pause. ‘I dunno – I haven’t seen him since Snape’s office.’

Ron gulped.

‘I start training next week,’ said Harry, in an effort to stop thinking about Snape. ‘Only don’t tell anyone, Wood wants to keep it a secret.’

Fred and George Weasley now came into the hall, spotted Harry and hurried over.

‘Well done,’ said George in a low voice. ‘Wood told us. We’re on the team too – Beaters.’

‘I tell you, we’re going to win that Quidditch Cup for sure this year,’ said Fred. ‘We haven’t won since Charlie left, but this year’s team is going to be brilliant. You must be good Harry, Wood was almost skipping when he told us.’

‘Mind you, Wood said Malfoy was just as good. Lucky Slytherin already has a seeker, they don’t need another advantage.’

_Wait_, Harry thought, _Draco wasn’t on the team?_

‘Anyway, we’ve got to go, Lee Jordan reckons he’s found a new secret passageway out of the school.’

‘Bet it’s that one behind the statue of Gregory the Smarmy that we found in our first week. See you.’

Fred and George had hardly disappeared when Harry finally spotted Draco walking into the Hall. Something was noticeably off about him, not least because he wasn’t flanked by Crabbe and Goyle like usual.

‘Draco!’ Harry shouted as he shot up and started walking towards him. ‘Draco!’

Draco, who had only just entered the Hall, seemed to decide he didn’t want dinner after all and turned to walk out again, pointedly ignoring Harry.

Harry just followed him out. ‘Draco – _stop_!’

Draco whirled around, ‘What?’

Harry took a step back and was about to ask what had made Draco so upset when Crabbe, Goyle, and Nott walked up the steps from the dungeons.

‘What have we got here?’ asked Nott, as he strolled towards them. ‘You both off to pack? Dear me, Draco, what on earth is your father going to say?’

Draco didn’t reply, standing silent behind Harry.

‘You’re a lot braver now that you’ve got back up, Nott,’ said Harry coolly.

‘Ooh, Potter, sticking up for Malfoy again,’ said Nott, tauntingly, ‘didn’t think you’d end up being Potter's sidekick.’

At this, Draco pushed past Harry, and marched straight up to Nott, wand raised, ‘I’d take you on any time on my own,’ said Draco.

Nott only laughed, ‘What are you going to do about it, Malfoy? I don’t need to beat you in a duel, no one in the entire house will take you seriously when they hear about you sticking your neck out for Longbottom.’

At this, Draco’s hand started to shake.

Nott just chuckled and walked into the Hall. Crabbe and Goyle lingered behind, blinking confusedly at Draco.

‘What are you two looking at?’ Draco hissed. ‘Shove off.’

Harry tried to step towards Draco once they had left, only for Draco to whirl around on him.

‘And you, _Potter_,’ Draco spat out the word, ‘where do you get off thinking I need someone sticking up for me?’

‘Draco – ‘

‘Think I need The Great Harry Potter on my side? Think I couldn’t manage alone? I was just fine before – with Pansy and Greg and Vince – then I go shake hands with _Harry Potter_ – ‘

‘Draco – ‘

‘Pansy won’t talk to me!' Draco snarled, 'I was just trying to be good, to be better than - than him - but I get detention and _Harry Potter _gets to be Seeker!’ Draco had his hands screwed up in his hair, his grey eyes like a furnace, ‘Well, Longbottom can get that sodding Remembrall back himself! I’m done – I’ve had enough of stupid, bloody Gryffindors!’

Harry was left standing alone in the Entrance Hall, as Draco Malfoy turned and stormed back down the Dungeon stairs.

* * *

It wasn’t what you’d call the perfect end to the day, Harry thought, as he lay awake much later listening to Dean and Seamus falling asleep (Neville wasn’t back from the hospital wing). After telling Ron what had happened in the Entrance Hall, Ron had spent all evening saying things like, ‘What did you expect, Harry, Malfoys – well, a Malfoy,’ and ‘This is why you stay away from Slytherins.’ Harry thought Ron was trying to be helpful but he just made Harry feel worse.

Harry didn’t understand why Draco had gotten so upset at Nott’s taunting. Nott was a prat, Draco had told him as much, but, Harry supposed, if his friends weren’t talking to him – Harry, found himself wondering, not for the first time, what it was like being in Slytherin. They couldn’t all be as bad as Nott …

Harry couldn’t get himself to fall asleep - as much as he tried, Draco’s words kept replaying in his head, 'I've had enough of stupid, bloody Gryffindors!'

Harry shot up. Neville’s Remembrall – no one was going to get it, only he and Draco knew where it was.

_Right_, Harry thought, getting out of bed and pulling on his dressing gown. There was a very good chance he was going to get caught by Filch or Mrs Norris, and Harry felt he was pushing his luck, breaking another school rule today. On the other hand, Draco’s face kept looming up out of the darkness – he couldn’t spend another minute thinking about how angry he was.

‘Wha’ s’going on?’ Ron said blearily, Harry had woken him up while trying to put on his slippers.

‘Shh,’ said Harry, ‘I’m just going to get Neville’s Remembrall, I’ll be back soon.’

Harry was just opening the dormitory door when he heard Ron stumble out of bed.

‘What are you doing?’ Harry hissed.

‘Well, obviously I’m coming with,’ said Ron.

So they crept down the spiral staircase and into the Gryffindor common room. A few embers were still glowing in the fireplace, turning all the armchairs into hunched black shadows. They had almost reached the portrait hole when a voice spoke from the chair nearest them: ‘I can’t believe you two.’

Harry and Ron hadn’t noticed that a lamp was still on and that Hermione Granger had been sat, with a book open on her lap, in the chair next to it.

‘_You_!’ said Ron furiously. ‘What are you still doing down here?’

‘I could ask you the same question,’ Hermione snapped, standing up and glaring at Ron. ‘If your brother hears about this - Percy – he’s a Prefect, he’d put a stop to this.’

Harry couldn’t believe anyone could be so interfering.

‘Come on,’ he said to Ron. He pushed open the portrait of the Fat Lady and climbed through the hole.

Hermione wasn’t going to give up that easily. She followed Ron through the portrait hole, hissing at them like an angry goose.

‘Don’t you _care _about Gryffindor, do you _only _care about yourselves, _I _don’t want Slytherin to win the House Cup and you’ll lose all the points I got from Professor McGonagall for knowing about Switching Spells.’

‘Go away.’

‘All right, but I warned you, you just remember what I said when you’re on the train home tomorrow, you’re so – ‘

But what they were, they didn’t find out. Hermione had turned to the portrait of the Fat Lady to get back inside and found herself facing an empty painting. The Fat Lady had gone on a night-time visit and Hermione was locked out of Gryffindor Tower.

‘Now what am I going to do?’ she asked shrilly.

‘That’s your problem,’ said Ron. ‘We’ve got to go, we’ve got stuff to do.’

They hadn’t even reached the end of the corridor when Hermione caught up with them.

‘I’m coming with you,’ she said.

‘You are _not_.’

‘D’you think I’m going to stand out here and wait for Filch to catch me? If he finds all three of us I’ll tell him the truth, that I was trying to stop you and you can back me up.’

‘You’ve got some nerve – ‘ said Ron loudly.

‘Shut up, both of you!’ said Harry sharply. ‘I heard something.’

It was a sort of snuffling.

‘Mrs Norris?’ breathed Ron, squinting through the dark.

It wasn’t Mrs Norris. It was Neville. He was curled up on the floor, fast asleep, but jerked suddenly awake as they crept nearer.

‘Thank goodness you found me! I’ve been out here for hours. I couldn’t remember the new password to get in to bed.’

‘Keep your voice down, Neville. The password’s “Pig Snout” but it won’t help you now, the Fat Lady’s gone off somewhere.’

‘How’s your arm?’ said Harry.

‘Fine,’ said Neville, showing them. ‘Madam Pomfrey mended it in about a minute.’

‘Good – well, look, Neville, we’re just going up to the Astronomy Tower to get your Remembrall back – ‘

Harry was cut off by Hermione saying, ‘Oh, for goodness sake,’ with a huff, but he continued on. ‘You can come with if you want but it would probably be best if there were less people – ‘

‘Don’t leave me!’ said Neville, scrambling to his feet. ‘I don’t want to stay here alone, the Bloody Baron’s been past twice already. Besides,’ Neville, screwing up his face into something that might have been brave if it hadn’t looked like gas pains, said, ‘it’s my Remembrall, I shouldn’t have dropped it, I'll help get it – although I don’t know why it would be up in the Astronomy Tower.’

Ron gave out a long suffering sigh, ‘We’ll tell you later mate, we need to get going.’ He glared furiously at Hermione and Neville. ‘If either of you get us caught, I’ll never rest until I’ve learnt that Curse of the Bogies Quirrell told us about and used it on you.’

Hermione opened her mouth, perhaps to tell Ron exactly how to use the Curse of the Bogies, but Harry hissed at her to be quiet and beckoned them all forward.

They flitted along corridors striped with bars of moonlight from the high windows. At every turn Harry expected to run into Filch or Mrs Norris, but they were lucky. They sped up staircase after staircase to the Astronomy Tower and tiptoed towards the door.

When Harry pushed the door open, taking care not to let it squeak, he was surprised to see someone was already in the Tower.

Draco Malfoy turned towards them from the end of the room as they walked in, his hair gleaming in the moonlight and clutched in his hand – Neville’s Remembrall.

‘Draco,’ Harry said surprised, ‘what are you doing here?’

Before Draco had a chance to answer, Ron had stepped up next to Harry and hissed, ‘What does it look like, Harry. He’s come to steal the Remembrall. I _told_ you – I said this would happen – didn’t I – Malfoy through and through – ‘

At this, Draco finally decided to speak, ‘Come off it Weasley, I wasn’t stealing the bloody thing – as if - it’s not like I’d need to.’

Harry noticed that Draco was drawling again.

‘Then what were you doing then?’ asked Harry. He suspected, but he wanted Draco to admit it.

‘Nothing,’ Draco said, too quickly, his face turning red. ‘I just thought I’d – well, that I would – ‘

Draco was becoming increasingly flustered but before he could finish rambling a noise from below the staircase made them jump. Harry saw Draco raise his wand when they heard someone speak.

‘Sniff around, my sweet, they might be lurking in a corner.’

It was Filch speaking to Mrs Norris. Horror-struck, Harry waved madly at the other four to follow him as quickly as possible; they scurried silently down the steps leading to the lower floor of the Astronomy Tower, away from Filch’s voice. Neville’s robes had barley whipped round the stairs when Filch entered the Tower above them.

‘They’re in here somewhere,’ they heard him mutter, ‘probably hiding.’

‘This way!’ Draco mouthed to Harry and the others and pointed to the door that led out into another corridor. Petrified, they began to creep down a long gallery full of suits of armour. They could hear Filch coming down the stairs behind them. Neville suddenly let out a frightened squeak and broke into a run – he tripped, grabbed Ron around the waist and the pair of them toppled right into a suit of armour.

The clanging and crashing were enough to wake the whole castle.

‘RUN!’ Harry yelled and the five of them sprinted down the gallery, not looking back to see whether Filch was following – they swung around the doorpost and galloped down one corridor and then another, Harry in the lead without any idea where they were or where they were going. They ripped through a tapestry and found themselves in a hidden passageway, hurtled along it and came out near their Charms classroom, which they knew was miles from the Astronomy Tower.

‘I think we’ve lost him,’ Harry panted, leaning against the cold wall and wiping his forehead. Neville was bent double, wheezing and spluttering, hanging onto Draco, who looked as if he would rather be anywhere else in the world at that moment.

‘I – _told_– you,’ Hermione gasped, clutching at the stitch in her chest. ‘I – told – you.’

‘We’ve got to get back to Gryffindor Tower,’ said Ron, ‘quickly as possible.’

‘Oi, what about me, Weasley?’ Draco, finally shoved Neville off and hissed, ‘Slytherin Common Room is miles away!’

‘You’re right, Malfoy,’ Ron hissed right back, ‘it is miles away, and you can bloody walk back by yourself. You made it up to the Astronomy Tower on your own - I'm sure you can get back in one piece – and if you lose points, serves you right for spending the day being a prat.’

Harry thought now would be a good time to step in. ‘He can stay in the Tower,’ Harry said, finally putting a stop to his friends arguing, ‘He can sleep in the common room and get up early tomorrow.’

‘As bloody if, Potter,’ Draco said, whirling on Harry, ‘I wouldn’t be caught dead in Gryffindor.’

Harry couldn’t believe Draco. ‘Suit yourself,’ he sighed, ‘try not to get caught then.’

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville had just started walking away when Draco ran up next to them. Harry smiled. ‘Shut up, Potter,’ Draco seethed.

‘Someone knew you were going to be there,’ Hermione said to Harry as they walked. ‘You realise that, don’t you? Filch knew someone was going to be up in the Astronomy Tower.’

‘But Draco and I were the only people who knew where we hid the Remembrall,’ Harry said.

Draco stopped walking suddenly. ‘I told Pansy,’ he said quietly.

‘I thought she wasn’t talking to you,’ said Ron, tactlessly.

‘She _isn’t_, Weasley,’ Draco snarled, ‘that’s probably why she set me up.’

Harry was about to say something – he didn’t know what – when a doorknob rattled and something came shooting out of a classroom in front of them.

It was Peeves. He caught sight of them and gave a squeal of delight.

‘Shut up, Peeves – please – you’ll get us thrown out.’

Peeves cackled.

‘Wandering around at midnight, ickle firsties? Tut, tut, tut. Naughty, naughty, you’ll get caughty.’

‘Not if you don’t give us away, Peeves, please.’

‘Should tell Filch, I should,’ said Peeves in a saintly voice, but his eyes glittered wickedly. ‘It’s for your own good, you know.’

‘Get out of the way,’ snapped Ron, taking a swipe at Peeves – this was a big mistake.

‘STUDENTS OUT OF BED!’ Peeves bellowed, ‘STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!’

Ducking under Peeves they ran for their lives, right to the end of the corridor, where they slammed into a door – and it was locked.

‘This is it!’ Ron moaned, as they pushed helplessly at the door. ‘We’re done for! This is the end!’

They could hear footsteps, Filch running as fast as he could towards Peeve’s shouts.

Draco was waving his wand at the lock and whispering “Alohomora” with little success.

‘Oh, move over,’ Hermione snapped. She grabbed Draco’s wand, tapped the lock and whispered, ‘_Alohomora_!’

The lock clicked and the door swung open – they piled through it, shut it quickly and pressed their ears against it, listening.

‘Which way did they go, Peeves?’ Filch was saying, ‘Quick, tell me.’

‘Say “please”.’

‘Don’t mess me about, Peeves, now _where did they go_?’

‘Shan’t say nothing if you don’t say please,’ said Peeves in his annoying sing-song voice.

‘All right –_please_.’

‘NOTHING! Ha haaa! Told you I wouldn’t say nothing if you didn’t say please! Ha ha! Haaaaaa!!’ And they heard the sound of Peeves whooshing away and Filch cursing in rage.

‘He thinks this door is locked,’ Harry whispered. ‘I think we’ll be OK – get _off_, Neville!’ For Nevill had been tugging on the sleeve of Harry’s dressing gown for the last minute, ‘_What_?’

Harry turned around – and saw, quite clearly, what. For a moment, he was sure he’d walked into a nightmare – this was too much, on top of everything that had happened so far.

They weren’t in a room, as he had supposed. They were in a corridor. The forbidden corridor on the third floor. And now they knew why it was forbidden.

They were looking straight into the eyes of a monstrous dog, a dog which filled the whole space between ceiling and floor. It had three heads. Three pairs of rolling, mad eyes; three noses, twitching and quivering in their direction; three drooling mouths, saliva hanging in slippery ropes from yellowish fangs.

It was standing quite still, all six eyes staring at them, and Harry knew that the only reason they weren’t already dead was that their sudden appearance had taken it by surprise, but it was quickly getting over that, there was no mistaking what those thunderous growls meant.

Harry groped for the doorknob – between Filch and death, he’d take Filch.

They fell backwards – Harry slammed the door shut, and they ran, they almost flew, back down the corridor. Filch must have hurried off to look for them somewhere else because they didn’t see him anywhere, but they hardly cared – all they wanted to do was put as much space as possible between them and that monster. They didn’t stop running until they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady on the seventh floor.

‘Where on earth have you all been?’ she asked looking at their dressing-gowns hanging off their shoulders and their flushed, sweaty faces.

‘Never mind that – pig snout, pig snout,’ panted Harry. Draco had stayed back, sort of hiding behind Harry, but the Fat Lady didn’t seem to notice him and the portrait swung forward. They scrambled into the common room and collapsed, trembling, into armchairs.

It was a while before any of them said anything. Draco was staring disdainfully at a Gryffindor throw pillow on his lap and Neville, indeed, looked as if he’d never speak again.

‘What do they think they’re doing, keeping a thing like that locked up in a school?’ said Ron finally. ‘If any dog needs exercise, that one does.’

Hermione had got both her breath and her bad temper back.

‘You don’t use your eyes, any of you, do you?’ she snapped. ‘Didn’t you see what it was standing on?’

‘The floor?’ Harry suggested. ‘I wasn’t looking at its feet, I was too busy with its heads.’

‘No, _not _the floor. It was standing on a trapdoor,’ Hermione said just as Draco rolled his eyes and said, ‘Honestly, Harry, it was obviously guarding something.’

Hermione and Draco both stopped and stared for a minute.

Hermione stood up, glaring at them.

‘I hope you’re pleased with yourselves. We could all have been killed – or worse expelled. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to bed.’

Ron stared after her, his mouth open.

‘No, we don’t mind,’ he said. ‘You’d think we dragged her along, wouldn’t you?’

Ron stood up and Neville followed. ‘Come on, Harry, we should go up,’ Ron said, but Harry was looking at Draco.

‘You two go, I’ll make sure Draco’s comfortable.’

‘Oh, thanks ever so, Harry,’ Draco said sarcastically as he flopped onto the couch closest to the fire.

Harry threw a pillow at him. Ron just rolled his eyes and followed Neville up the stairs.

Harry was just standing there, watching Draco get comfortable, hitting the Gryffindor pillows with a bit too much force, when he was struck by a thought. The dog was guarding something … What had Hagrid said? Gringotts was the safest place in the world for something you wanted to hide – except perhaps Hogwarts.

It looked as though Harry had found out where the grubby little package from vault seven hundred and thirteen was.

‘Oi, Potter,’ Draco said, ‘what you gawking at?’

Harry shook his head, he hadn’t realised he’d still been staring at Draco. Harry walked walked up to the armchair closest to him and mumbled “sorry” as he sat down.

‘Staying are you?’ Draco asked, pulling a pillow over his face.

‘It’s just - ’ Harry started. He wasn’t sure about Draco, Ron was right, he was a bit of a prat. But, Harry thought, he had sneaked out by himself just to get Neville his Remembrall. Harry knew his bark was bigger than his bite.

Harry explained to Draco about Gringotts.

‘Bloody hell, Dumbledore’s barmy,’ Draco said, a few minutes later, finally removing the pillow from his face.

‘Yeah,’ said Harry, yawning.

‘You should go up, Harry,’

‘Yeah,’ said Harry, yawning again, but leaning further back in his chair. It was so late, it was almost early. The sun would be rising soon and Draco would have to sneak back to his Common Room…

Harry woke up a few hours later to Draco sneaking out the common room.

‘Bye, Draco,’ he mumbled.

‘Bye, Harry.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again!
> 
> As you can probably tell, I struggled with the beginning of this chapter. I'm still not sure how to write Snape and Draco so I just didn't. *hides* I might come back and edit it later, but it was one of those sections that I just needed to get past otherwise I would end up in a complete writing slump.
> 
> I really like how the end of this chapter turned out though. So, hopefully you do too. I'm trying not to have everyone just suddenly be friends but it's so hard because I hate angst, but I love character development like I love air - so... needs must.
> 
> I was going to try to have an upload schedule but I don't know why I was kidding myself - I'm a chaotic mess and so I'm just going to post when I write. My version of living life on the edge.
> 
> Anyway, thank you for all the love on the last chapter and I hope you enjoy this one!


	4. HALLOWE'EN

The other Slytherin first years couldn’t believe their eyes when they saw that Draco was still at Hogwarts the next day. Pansy, in particular, was gawking.

Harry didn’t understand her friendship with Draco, but he knew they had been friends for most of Draco’s life.

‘She’s brilliant, mostly,’ Draco had said, ‘she’s also bloody stubborn and isn’t too keen on me making a scene.’

But make a scene Draco did, when that morning, he swaggered up to the Slytherin table, and walked straight past his usual seat next to Pansy. He opted instead to sit next to another boy, Blaise Zabini, who wasn’t very talkative but who didn’t seem to mind the company.

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville were tired throughout breakfast, struggling to keep their eyes open, but otherwise cheerful. Ron seemed to have gotten over his fight with Draco. Both were once again seemingly resigned to their acquaintance. Harry even saw Ron give Draco a pitiful thumbs up from the Gryffindor table. Draco ignored him, but Harry thought Ron had the right attitude.

Indeed, Harry and Ron agreed that meeting the three-headed dog had been quite an adventure and they were quite keen to have another one. In the meantime, Harry filled Ron in about what he had told Draco about the package from Gringotts, and they spent a lot of time wondering what could possibly need such heavy protection.

‘It’s either really valuable or really dangerous,’ said Ron.

‘Or both,’ said Harry.

But as all they knew for sure about the mysterious object was that it was about two inches long, they didn’t have much chance of guessing what it was without further clues.

Neither, Neville or Hermione showed the slightest interest in what lay underneath the dog and the trapdoor. All Neville cared about was never going near the dog again.

Hermione was now refusing to speak to Harry and Ron, but she was such a bossy know-it-all that they saw this as an added bonus. All they really wanted now was a way of getting Draco out of the strop he had fallen into since his fight with Pansy. It was a week later, and still, neither was talking to the other.

* * *

_DO NOT OPEN THE PARCEL AT THE TABLE_

_It contains your new Nimbus Two Thousand, but I don't want everybody knowing you've got a broomstick or they'll all want one. Oliver Wood will meet you tonight on the Quidditch pitch at seven o'clock for your first training session._

_Professor M. McGonagall_

Harry had a lot of trouble keeping his mind on lessons that day. It kept wandering up to the dormitory, where his new broomstick was lying under his bed, or straying off to the Quidditch pitch where he’d be learning to play that night. He bolted his dinner that evening without noticing what he was eating and then rushed upstairs to grab his broomstick. He told Ron to grab Draco and to meet him down at the Quidditch pitch.

‘Wow,’ Ron sighed, as the broomstick rolled onto the grass of the Quidditch pitch.

Even Harry, who knew nothing about the different brooms, thought it looked wonderful. Sleek and shiny, with a mahogany handle, it had a long tail of neat, straight twigs and _Nimbus Two Thousand _written in gold near the top.

Draco was quiet as Ron picked up the broom to get a closer look. He gushed about all sorts of different features but Harry wasn’t paying attention – he just wanted to fly.

‘Oh,’ said Ron, after Harry pointedly cleared his throat, ‘sorry, Harry. Try it out why don't you.’

Harry didn’t need to be told twice. Harry mounted his broomstick and kicked off from the ground. What a feeling – he swooped in and out of the goalposts and then sped up and down the pitch, whizzing past Ron and Draco who both cheered.

Harry landed next to them, managing to stay standing this time, and grinned at both of them.

‘One of you want a go?’

Ron scrambled to have his chance and was off in the air, doing a brilliant lap of the entire pitch.

Draco, standing next to Harry, had a smile on his face but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

‘Your go next, Draco,’ Harry said, hoping to get his eyes to stop looking like that.

‘Probably shouldn’t,’ Draco said, looking very uncomfortable now, crossing his arms and refusing to look at Harry.

‘What? Why?’ cried Harry, who couldn’t imagine not wanting a go on a _Nimbus Two Thousand_.

‘Eh – you know, I’ve still got another detention and – well,’ Draco trailed off. Harry’s stomach dropped - he had forgotten all about that. Draco hadn’t gotten onto the Quidditch team like Harry, instead he had detentions, and here Harry was showing off his new broom without a care in the world.

‘Draco –‘ Harry started to say, but was cut off by Oliver Wood arriving.

‘Hey, Potter, tell that Weasley to come down!’

* * *

On Hallowe’en, Hermione didn’t turn up for the last morning class and wasn’t seen all afternoon. On their way down to the Great Hall for the Hallowe’en feast, Harry and Ron overheard Parvati Patil telling her friend Lavender that Hermione was crying in the girl’s toilets and wanted to be left alone. Ron looked still more awkward at this, and that wasn’t the last of it. Just before entering the Great Hall they came face to face with Draco and Pansy.

Both seemingly still weren’t talking to each other – they were shouting. They had been given a wide berth by the rest of the students filing into the Hall but Harry could hear snippets of their argument as he and Ron moved closer.

‘- how was getting me thrown out of Hogwarts going to help?’ Draco yelled, but before Pansy could reply, he continued, ‘You don't know the letters I got from father – just from flying a broom! Imagine, Pansy – imagine what –‘

Pansy cut Draco off, ‘You were being a git, Draco! What was I meant to do? You can’t just run off with Potter and the Gryffindors – you’re Slytherin – you’re my friend! You’re meant to be my friend!’

‘Friends don’t do that, Pansy!’ Draco bellowed, it echoed throughout the Entrance Hall and the few remaining students scarpered into the Hall.

Pansy looked far less angry now and far closer to crying.

‘I just – Draco, I just want it to be how it used to – I miss my friend.’ Pansy said the last part brokenly, hanging her head, ‘it’s been a month, Draco! How long can you hold a grudge?’

‘I’m acting like a Slytherin! Isn’t that what you wanted?’ Draco was still yelling.

‘I just want my friend,’ Pansy whispered, taking a step closer to Draco and reaching out to tug his sleeve. Draco just stood there, looking like he had no idea what to do. He finally looked around and spotted Harry and Ron, in the now otherwise empty Entrance Hall.

Draco sneered at Pansy, ‘I have other friends.’ He ripped his sleeve out of her grip and marched through to the Great Hall, not looking back at Pansy who had burst into tears.

* * *

‘I’ve just thought – Hermione.’

‘What about her?’

‘She doesn’t know about the troll.’

Ron bit his lip.

‘Oh, all right,’ he snapped. ‘But Percy’d better not see us.’

Ducking down, they joined the Hufflepuffs going the other way, slipped down a deserted side corridor and hurried off towards the girls’ toilets. They had just turned the corner when they heard quick footsteps behind them.

‘Percy!’ hissed Ron, pulling Harry behind a large stone griffin.

Peering around it, however, they saw not Percy but Snape. He crossed the corridor and disappeared from view.

‘What’s he doing?’ Harry whispered. ‘Why isn’t he down in the dungeons with the rest of the teachers?’

‘Search me.’

Quietly as possible, they crept along the next corridor after Snape’s fading footsteps.

‘What are you two doing?’

Ron screeched and jumped about a foot in the air, Harry whirled around to face the voice and found none other than Draco Malfoy standing behind them.

‘Draco – what are _you _doing here?’

‘I asked first, Potter.’

‘Shhh,’ Ron said, ‘can you smell something?’

Harry sniffed and a foul stench reached his nostrils, a mixture of old socks ad the kind of public toilet no one seems to clean.

And then they heard it – a low grunting and the shuffling footfalls of gigantic feet. Ron pointed: at the end of a passage to the left, something huge was moving towards them.

They shrank into the shadows and watched as it emerged into a patch of moonlight.

It was a horrible sight. Twelve feet tall, its skin was a dull, granite grey, its great lumpy body like a boulder with its small bald head perched on top like a coconut. It had short legs thick as tree trunks with flat, horny feet. The smell coming from it was incredible. It was holding a huge wooden club, which dragged along the floor because its arms were so long.

The troll stopped next to a doorway and peered inside. It waggled its long ears, making up its tiny mind, then slouched slowly into the room.

‘The key’s in the lock,’ Harry muttered. ‘We could lock it in.’

‘Good idea,’ said Ron nervously.

‘Have you two lost your minds?’ Draco asked indignantly. ‘That’s the girls bathroom! We need to draw it out.’

Harry had to stop himself from bringing his hand up to his head. He started trying to think of a way to get the Troll out when he heard something that made his heart stop – a high, petrified scream – and it was coming from inside.

‘Too late,’ Harry said.

It was the last thing they wanted to do, but what choice did they have? Wheeling around they sprinted to the door and, fumbling in their panic, Harry pulled the door open – he and Ron ran inside. Draco hesitated outside for just a moment until he heard another voice – Pansy.

‘Shove off! Bloody troglodyte.’

Pansy Parkinson was standing pressed into a corner of the room shouting at a Troll. Hermione Granger was shrinking against the wall next to her, looking as if she were about to faint. The troll was advancing on them both, knocking sinks off the walls as it went.

‘Confuse it!’ Harry said desperately and Draco immediately fired off the leg-locker curse at the troll.

It didn’t do much but the troll stopped a few feet from Hermione and Pansy. It lumbered around, blinking stupidly, to see what had made the noise. Its mean little eyes saw Draco. It hesitated, then made for him instead, lifting its club as it went.

‘Oy, pea-brain!’ yelled Ron from the other side of the chamber, and he threw a metal pipe at it. The troll didn’t even seem to notice the pipe hitting its shoulder, but it heard the yell and paused again, turning its ugly snout towards Ron instead. Draco gave up on using his wand and threw another pipe at the troll. It now stood, confused, in the middle of the room, not knowing where to go, giving Harry time to run around it.

‘Come on, run, _run_!’ Harry yelled at Hermione, trying to pull her towards the door, but she couldn’t move, she was still flat against the wall, her mouth open with terror.

‘Don’t tell me what to do, Potter,’ Pansy hissed, even as she stated pulling at Hermione, trying to get her to move as well.

The shouting and echoes seemed to be driving the troll berserk. It roared again and started towards Ron, who was nearest and had no way to escape.

Harry then did something that was both very brave and very stupid: he took a great running jump and managed to fasten his arms around the troll’s neck from behind. The troll couldn’t feel Harry hanging there, but even a troll will notice if you stick a long bit of wood up its nose, and Harry’s wand had still been in his hand when he’d jumped – it had gone straight up one of the troll’s nostrils.

Howling with pain, the troll twisted and flailed its club, with Harry clinging on for dear life; any second, the troll was going to rip him off or catch him a terrible blow with the club.

‘For Merlin’s sake, Harry!’ Draco yelled, even as he used the distraction to rush over to Pansy and Hermione, finally getting them all moving towards the door.

Ron pulled out his own wand – not knowing what he was going to do he heard himself cry the first spell that came into his head:

‘_Wingardium Leviosa!_’

The club flew suddenly out of the troll’s hand, rose high, high up into the air, turned slowly over – and dropped, with a sickening crack, on to its owner’s head. The troll swayed on the spot and then fell flat on its face, with a thud that made the whole room tremble.

Harry got to his feet. He was shaking and out of breath. Ron was standing there with his wand still raised, staring at what he had done.

It was Hermione who spoke first from where she was huddle by the door with Pansy and Draco.

‘Is it – dead?’

‘I don’t think so,’ said Harry. ‘I think it’s just been knocked out.’

He bent down and pulled his wand out of the troll’s nose. It was covered in what looked like lumpy grey glue.

‘Urgh – troll bogies.’

He wiped it on the troll’s trousers. Draco made a retching noise.

A sudden slamming and loud footsteps made the three of them look up. They hadn’t realised what a racket they had been making, but of course, someone downstairs must have heard the crashes and the troll’s roars. A moment later, Professor McGonagall had come bursting into the room, closely followed by Snape, with Quirrell bringing up the rear. Quirrell took one look at the troll, let out a faint whimper and sat quickly down on a toilet, clutching his heart.

Snape bent over the troll. Professor McGonagall was looking at Ron and Harry. Harry had never seen her look so angry. Her lips were white. Hopes of winning fifty points for Gryffindor faded quickly from Harry’s mind.

‘What on earth were you thinking of?’ said Professor McGonagall, with cold fury in her voice. Harry looked at Ron, who was still standing with his wand in the air.

‘You’re lucky you weren’t killed. Why aren’t you in your dormitories?’

‘I was just taking a piss,’ Pansy said bluntly, refusing to look sheepish even when Professor McGonagall whirled on her.

Draco gave a snort of laughter that quickly died in his throat as Snape gave him a swift piercing look. Harry looked at the floor. He wished Ron would put his wand down.

Then a small voice came out of the shadows.

‘Please, Professor McGonagall – they were looking for me.’

‘Miss Granger!’

Hermione shifted forwards and stood up straighter.

‘I went looking for the troll because I – I thought I could deal with it on my own – you know, because I’ve read all about them.’

Ron dropped his wand. Hermione Granger, telling a downright lie to a teacher?

‘If they hadn’t found me, I’d be dead by now. Pansy yelled at it, Draco distracted it, Harry stuck his wand up its nose, and Ron knocked it out with its own club. They didn’t have time to come and fetch anyone. It was about to finish me and Pansy off when they arrived.’

They all quickly tried to look like this story wasn’t new to them.

‘Well – in that case …’ said Professor McGonagall, staring at the five of them. ‘Miss Granger, you foolish girl, how could you think of tackling a mountain troll on your own?’

Hermione hung her head. Harry was speechless. Draco looked impressed. Hermione was the last person to do anything against the rules, and here she was pretending she had, to get them out of trouble. It was as if Snape had started handing out sweets.

‘Miss Granger, five points will be taken from Gryffindor for this,’ said Professor McGonagall. ‘I’m very disappointed in you. If you’re not hurt at all, you’d better get off to Gryffindor Tower. Students are finishing the feast in their houses.’

Hermione left.

Professor McGonagall turned to Harry, Ron, Draco, and Pansy.

‘Well, I still say you four were lucky, but not many first-years could have taken on a full-grown mountain troll. Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, you each win Gryffindor five points, and the same for Mr. Malfoy and Miss. Parkinson for Slytherin - if you agree, Severus?’

Snape only nodded, still staring down at the great troll lying unconscious.

‘Professor Dumbledore will be informed of this. You may go.’

They hurried out of the chamber, Hermione was waiting outside. They hurried down the corridor and didn’t speak until they got to the crossroads leading up to Gryffindor Tower and down to the Slytherin Dungeons.

‘We should have got more than ten points,’ Ron grumbled.

‘Five, you mean, once she’s taken off Hermione’s.’

‘Slytherin got ten,’ drawled Draco. Pansy snickered.

Harry only rolled his eyes, he would be upset but it seemed that Draco and Pansy had finally decided to forgive each other.

‘Good of you to get us out of trouble like that, Hermione,’ Ron admitted. ‘Mind you, we _did _save you.’

Hermione gave a grimace that looked like a smile but seemed to take it as an apology never the less.

‘Really impressive, actually, Granger,’ Pansy said, ‘didn’t think you had it in you.’

Hermione was turning bright red.

There was a long and painful silence after that. Eventually, someone said a very quiet "thanks" which made everyone else say "thanks" as well. They all hurried to their Common Rooms after that, refusing to meet each others eyes.

But from that moment on, they were friends.

You know what they say about fighting trolls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all,
> 
> This isn't a very long update, but it didn't seem short enough to combine with another chapter so here ya go. Sorry.
> 
> I'm really unsure about this chapter, I tried, but I think it was better in my head.
> 
> Anyway, before anyone starts getting on my case about Trolls and dungeons and Slytherins - can we just assume that in this fic, the dungeons have separate levels and Dumbumbledore didn't knowingly send 1/4 of the school to their possible deaths. Thanks.
> 
> Hope you enjoy, despite this being kind of a gigantic mess!
> 
> <3


	5. QUIDDITCH and THE MIRROR OF ERISED

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to clear up some confusion concerning the titles of each chapter here on AO3. I'm titling each chapter with the corresponding chapters from canon. So, I've titled this chapter Quidditch and The Mirror of Erised because the scenes I'm working with happen in those chapters in the book. However, I'm only including scenes in this fic that I've changed significantly. So, in this post I have not included the scenes with Harry and The Mirror of Erised because nothing changes. I hope that makes sense. Feel free to drop me a comment if you have any further questions.

As they entered November, the weather turned very cold. The mountains around the school became icy grey and the lake like chilled steel. Every morning the ground was covered in frost. Hagrid could be seen from the upstairs windows, defrosting broomsticks on the Quidditch pitch, bundled up in a long moleskin overcoat, rabbit-fur gloves and enormous beaverskin boots.

Draco wasn’t spending as much time with them but he was also no longer hanging around them dejectedly. He and Pansy were once again inseparable, only now she would nod at Harry and Ron when they passed in the halls and no longer got a sour look on her face when they spoke to Draco.

Hermione had become a bit more relaxed about breaking rules since Harry and Ron had saved her from the mountain troll and she was much nicer for it. She and Pansy had also struck up an odd sort of friendship.

‘She’s terribly nice – much more interesting than Lavender and all those other girls.’

The day before Harry’s first Quidditch match the five of them were out in the freezing courtyard during break, and Hermione had conjured them up a bright blue fire which could be carried around in a jam jar. They were all standing with their backs to it, getting warm, when Snape crossed the yard. Harry noticed at once that Snape was limping. They all moved closer to block the fire from view; they were sure it wouldn’t be allowed. Unfortunately, something about their guilty faces caught Snape’s eye. He limped over. He hadn’t seen the fire, but he seemed to be looking for a reason to tell them off anyway.

‘What’s that you’ve got there, Potter?’

It was _Quidditch Through The Ages_. Harry showed him.

‘Library books are not to be taken outside the school,’ said Snape. ‘Give it to me. Five points from Gryffindor.’

‘He’s just made that rule up,’ Harry muttered angrily as Snape limped away.

‘I know he’s your Godfather – but blimey, mate!’ Ron said, huffing at Draco.

Draco’s eyes were still following Snape across the yard.

‘I dunno what’s up with him,’ he said finally, ‘he’s never usually like this. Yeah, he’s usually surly, but he was never mean. You must really piss him off, Harry.’

‘Thanks for the reassurance, Draco. I’ll try to keep it in mind.’

‘No problem,’ Draco said, flashing a grin and moving his hands up towards the fire.

‘If you two are quite done,’ Pansy said, ‘anyone know what’s wrong with his leg?’

‘Dunno, but I hope it’s really hurting him,’ said Ron bitterly.

Draco shoved him.

* * *

The next morning dawned very bright and cold. The Great Hall was full of the delicious smell of fried sausages and the cheerful chatter of everyone looking forward to a good Quidditch match.

‘You’ve got to eat some breakfast.’

‘I don’t want anything.’

‘Just a bit of toast,’ wheedled Hermione.

‘I’m not hungry.’

Harry felt terrible. In an hour’s time he’d be walking on to the pitch.

‘Harry, you need your strength,’ said Seamus Finnigan. ‘Seekers are always the ones who get nobbled by the other team.’

‘Thanks, Seamus,’ said Harry, watching Seamus pile ketchup on his sausages. Just then, the post arrived and Hedwig swooped gracefully down to their table. She bit at Harry’s hand affectionately as he unfastened the note from around her leg.

Harry hadn’t received any post since his _Nimbus Two Thousand_. He didn’t think anything could beat a broomstick but the note was pretty good.

It was a magical drawing of Harry swooping down in a great dive, chasing after a Remembrall instead of a snitch. Signed at the bottom was “Draco” and then added in a much larger hand, “and Pansy, hope you don’t die”.

Harry smiled up at them both from across the hall and finally took a bite of toast.

* * *

‘He’s doing something – jinxing the broom,’ said Hermione

‘What should we do?’

‘Leave it to me.’

Hermione had fought her way across to the stand where Snape stood and was now racing along the row behind him; she didn’t even stop to say sorry as she knocked Professor Quirrell headfirst into the row in front, straight into Draco Malfoy. Reaching Snape, she crouched down, pulled out her wand and whispered a few, well chosen words. Bright blue flames shot from her wand on to the hem of Snape’s robes.

It took perhaps thirty seconds for Snape to realise that he was on fire. In that time, Draco had managed to disentangle himself from a stuttering Quirrell and follow Hermione as she scooped the fire off Snape into a little jar in her pocket.

'And you're setting Snape on fire because…’ Draco asked, looking worse for wear when he caught up to Hermione.

But Hermione wasn’t paying attention. Her fire had been enough. Up in the air, Harry was suddenly able to clamber back on to his broom.

* * *

Harry was being made a cup of strong tea back in Hagrid’s hut, with Ron and Hermione. They had tried to convince Draco to come with, but once again he had declined an invitation to Hagrid’s. Harry hoped Draco wasn’t still angry about not being allowed to play Quidditch. He hadn’t seemed it - he hadn’t even bothered worrying about who won the match, he had only raced onto the field with Ron and Hermione to see if Harry was okay.

_No_, Harry thought, _Draco only seemed to get uncomfortable at the thought of visiting Hagrid. _But that didn’t make sense – there was nothing scary about Hagrid. Although, he wondered if Draco still thought that Hagrid was a “sort of servant”.

‘It was Snape,’ Ron was explaining. ‘Hermione and I saw him. He was cursing your broomstick, muttering, he wouldn’t take his eyes off you.’

‘Rubbish,’ said Hagrid, who hadn’t heard a word of what had gone on next to him in the stands. ‘Why would Snape do somethin’ like that?’

‘I found out something about him,’ he told Hagrid. ‘He tried to get past that three-headed dog on Halloween. It bit him. We think he was trying to steal whatever it’s guarding.’

Hagrid dropped the teapot.

‘How do you know about Fluffy?’ he said.

‘_Fluffy?_’

‘Yeah – he’s mine – bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las’ year – I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the –‘

‘Yes?’ said Harry eagerly.

‘Now, don’t ask me any more,’ said Hagrid. ‘Snape’s a Hogwarts teacher and Draco’s godfather, he’d do nothin’ of the sort.’

‘Come to think of it,’ Ron said, sloshing tea out the side of a over-large cup, ‘Draco was poking about after Snape on Halloween. We still don’t know for sure that he’s on our side either.’

‘He was looking for Pansy!’ Hermione exclaimed.

‘We don’t know for sure,’ Ron said, defensively, ‘you didn’t see but they had a huge row at dinner – why would he go after her?’

‘We went after Hermione,’ Harry pointed out. He didn’t trust Snape at all, but Draco seemed to really care about Pansy. ‘Besides, Snape’s who we should really worry about.’

‘I’m tellin’ yeh, yer wrong!’ said Hagrid hotly. ‘I don’ know why Harry’s broom acted like that, but Snape wouldn’t try an’ kill a student! Now, listen to me, all of yeh – yer meddlin’ in things that don’t concern yeh. It’s dangerous. You forget that dog, an’ you forget what it’s gaurdin’, that’s between Professor Dumbledore an’ Nicolas Flamel –‘

‘Aha!’ said Harry, ‘so there’s someone called Nicolas Flamel involved, is there?’

Hagrid looked furious with himself.

* * *

No one could wait for the holidays to start. While the Gryffindor common room and the Great Hall had roaring fires, the drafty corridors had become icy and a bitter wind rattled the windows in the classrooms. Worst of all were Professor Snape’s classes down in the dungeons where their breath rose in a mist before them and they kept as close as possible to their hot cauldrons. Draco, it turned out, was quite good at potions - quite good at every subject it seemed - second only to Hermione. So, he had started partnering with Harry in potions in an attempt to get Snape to stop deducting points.

‘Have they heard of heating charms,’ Draco exclaimed during one particularly freezing potions class, ‘at least at the Manor I can feel my toes.’

Harry perked up at this. Draco had been very withholding concerning his plans for Christmas, and about his family in general.

‘So, you’re not staying then?’

‘Mum would have a fit if I did,’ Draco said, rolling his eyes and stirring Harry's congealed potion. ‘But, I’d much rather stay at Hogwarts, it might be freezing but I far prefer the company.’

Harry wasn’t going back to Privet Drive for Christmas. Professor McGonagall had come around the week before, making a list of students who would be staying for the holidays, and Harry had signed up at once. He didn’t really feel sorry for himself; this would probably be the best Christmas he’d ever had. Ron and his brother’s were staying, too, because Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were going to Romania to visit Charlie. But, Harry couldn’t help but want Draco around too. Without Nott hassling them and with no classes they might be able to talk more often. As it was Harry hadn’t even found a spare moment to fill Draco in about Nicolas Flamel. Although, Ron thought they should keep Draco out of it.

‘He’s nice enough, Harry,’ Ron had said, ‘but he’s Slytherin through and through.’

When they left the dungeons at the end of Potions, they found a large fir tree blocking the corridor ahead. Two enormous feet sticking out at the bottom and a loud puffing sound told them that Hagrid was behind it.

‘Hi, Hagrid, want any help?’ Ron asked, sticking his head through the branches.

‘Nah, I’m all right, thanks, Ron.’

‘Would you mind moving out of the way?’ Nott’s cold voice came from behind them, he shoved past Draco. ‘What are you doing around this oaf, Malfoy – planning for the future? Hoping to be game-keeper yourself when you leave Hogwarts. It’ll be the most you can hope for when your father hears about this – honestly, _Draco Malfoy_, hanging around muggleborns and half-breeds.’

Draco lunged at Nott, and Ron followed just as Snape came up the stairs.

‘WEASLEY!’

Ron let go of Nott’s robes but Draco held on, staring at Nott with a look of intense, focused rage.

‘They were provoked, Professor Snape,’ said Hagrid, sticking his huge hairy face out from behind the tree. ‘Nott was insultin’ their friends.’

‘Be that as it may, fighting is against Hogwarts rules, Hagrid,’ said Snapee silkily. ‘Five points from Gryffindor, Weasley, and be grateful it isn’t more. Move along, all of you.’

‘What about me, Professor?’ Draco had finally let go of Nott.

‘What about it, Mr. Malfoy, I see you’re getting to know your fellow Slytherins - as you should.’

Harry and Ron gaped at Draco after Snape and Nott had left.

‘What the bloody hell just happened?’ Ron exclaimed. ‘Why’d Snape let you off and not me?’

Draco’s face was scrunched up in a frown.

‘I think he was trying to be nice,’ Hermione said, looking alarmed.

Harry couldn’t believe what he’d just seen.

‘He isn't always a git, y'know’ Draco said, straightening the sleeves of his robes self-consciously. 'Although, with you lot going around setting fire to him, I suppose its only fair he deducts points.'

'Yeah, about that ...' Harry started explaining their theory about what happened during the Quidditch match.

‘Come off it, Harry’ Hagrid said, interrupting. ‘Yeh, can' still be goin' on about that, it’s nearly Christmas. Tell yeh what, come with me an’ see the Great Hall, looks a treat.’

So the four of them followed Hagrid and his tree off to the Great Hall. Where Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick were busy with the Christmas decorations.

‘Ah, Hagrid, the last tree – put it in the far corner would you?’

The hall looked spectacular. Festoons of holly and mistletoe hung all around the walls, and no less than twelve towering Christmas trees stood around the room, some sparkling with tiny icicles, some glittering with hundreds of candles.

‘By the way, Draco,’ Hagrid said as he lumbered back from putting up the Christmas tree, ‘I wanted teh let yeh know that yer always welcome for a spot o’ tea in me hut. No matter what yer father or Nott says.’

Draco turned bright red at this and startled forwards as Hagrid patted him on the back.

‘Thank you, Hagrid,’ Draco managed to squeak out politely, and then cleared his throat, ‘that means a lot.’

‘How many days you got left until yer holidays?’ Hagrid asked.

‘Just one,’ said Hermione. ‘And that reminds me – Harry, Ron, we’ve got half an hour before lunch, we should be in the library.’

‘Oh yeah, you’re right,’ said Ron, tearing his eyes away from Professor Flitwick, who had golden bubbles blossoming out of his wand and was trailing them over the branches of the new tree.

‘The library?’ said Hagrid, following them out of the hall. ‘Just before the holidays? Bit keen, aren’t yeh?’

‘Oh we’re not working,’ Harry told him brightly. ‘We’re looking for Fla-‘

But Harry didn’t finish, Ron had stepped on his foot and was nodding at Draco who looked very confused.

‘Flying,’ Ron said hastily, ‘we’re looking for flying tips.’

‘Why do you need to do that – Harry’s one of the best flyers Hogwarts has ever seen?’

‘Hermione wants to learn.’

At this Hermione rolled her eyes but nodded yes, saying hesitantly, ‘Um, yeah – I love learning new things.’

Draco just looked at the three of them disbelievingly.

‘All right, if you don’t want to tell me, I’ll just go find Pansy then.’

‘You want to be kinder to Draco, Ron,’ Hagrid said as they watched Draco slope sadly down the stairs to the dungeons, ‘You shouldn’ leave him out.’

‘But Hagrid, this is classified information!’

‘Oh, is it – what could be so importan’ that yeh can’ tell yeh friend?’

‘We’ve been trying to find out who Nicolas Flamel is,’ Harry said, finally drawing his eyes away from the dungeons.

‘You _what_?’

* * *

‘I think I know who that one’s from.’

It was Christmas morning and Harry had been surprised when he had woken early and discovered a small pile of packages at the foot of his bed. He had already opened Hagrid’s present to him – a roughly cut wooden flute – and given Ron the fifty-pence piece from the Dursleys.

Ron was now turning a bit pink as he pointed to a very lumpy parcel. ‘My mom. I told her you didn’t expect any presents – oh, no,’ he groaned, ‘she’s made you a Weasley jumper.’

Harry had torn open the parcel to find a thick, hand-knitted jumper in emerald green and a large box of home-made fudge.

‘Every year she makes us a sweater,’ said Ron, unwrapping his own, ‘and mine’s _always _maroon.’

‘That’s really nice of her,’ said Harry, trying the fudge, which was very tasty.

His next present also contained candy – a large box of Chocolate Frogs from Hermione.

This left only two parcels. Harry picked up the much smaller one with a note attached.

_Dear Harry,_

_Happy Christmas. I thought you’d like one, not that you need practice._

_Thank you._

_Draco._

Harry unwrapped the parcel to reveal a snitch with his initials embossed on the side.

‘Bloody Malfoy,’ Ron groaned when he saw it, ‘always has to pull focus.’

Harry just grinned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all, so sorry for disappearing for awhile - life got hectic! But chapter 5 is finally here. I had a little bit of writer's block and ultimately this is just a filler chapter but I hope you enjoyed it anyway.
> 
> Hopefully I will manage to update sooner with chapter 6 - and some more interesting things will happen. 
> 
> Until then I just wanted to say thank you to all who have commented and left kudos. It means the world to me <3


	6. NICOLAS FLAMEL and NORBERT THE NORWEGIAN RIDGEBACK

After a particularly gruelling Quidditch practice in the new term, Harry hurried straight back to the Gryffindor common room, where he found Ron and Hermione playing chess. Chess was the only thing Hermione ever lost at, something Harry and Ron thought was very good for her.

‘Don’t talk to me for a moment,’ said Ron when Harry sat down next to him, ‘I need to concen-‘ He caught sight of Harry’s face. ‘What’s the matter with you? You look terrible.’

Speaking quietly so that no one else would hear, Harry told the other two about Snape’s sudden, sinister desire to be a Quidditch referee.

‘Don’t play,’ said Hermione at once.

‘Say you’re ill,’ said Ron.

‘Pretend to break your leg,’ Hermione suggested.

‘_Really _break your leg,’ said Ron.

‘I can’t,’ said Harry. ‘There isn’t a reserve Seeker. If I back out, Gryffindor can’t play at all.’

‘Well at least go talk to Draco or Pansy – maybe they can help,’ Hermione said consolingly.

At that moment, however, Neville toppled into the common room. How he had managed to climb through the portrait hole was anyone’s guess, because his legs had been stuck together with what they recognised at once as the Leg-Locker Curse. He must have had to bunny hop all the way up to Gryffindor Tower.

Everyone fell over laughing except Hermione, who leapt up and performed the countercurse. Neville’s legs sprang apart and he got to his feet, trembling.

‘What happened?’ Hermione asked him, leading him over to sit with Harry and Ron.

‘Malfoy,’ said Neville shakily.

Harry didn’t hear the rest of what Neville said.

They hadn’t seen much of Draco since the start of term, but that wasn’t unusual – they were in different houses – but this? _Why would Draco do something so - horrible? _Harry would’ve expected something like this from Nott, but – _Draco_?

‘I knew it!’ Ron exclaimed, ‘I told you Harry – he’s just like his father – nothing but a rotten Slytherin!’

Harry had gone very quiet.

‘Harry,’ Ron called, waving his hand in front of Harry’s face, ‘Harry!’

Harry stared back at Ron blankly.

‘Neville, I’m so sorry this happened – do you want to go to Professor McGonagall?' Hermione asked.

‘I don’t want more trouble,’ he murmed.

'There must be some sort of explanation,' Hermione said, looking at Ron.

Harry stood, ‘I’m going to find Draco.’

‘Harry, no!’ Hermione exclaimed, ‘it’s almost curfew, don’t go starting trouble now.’

‘I’m not starting trouble – I just want to know what's is going on.’

‘I’m coming with,’ Ron said, standing as well. 'It's about time the git got what’s coming to him.’

‘No, Ron – I’m just going to _talk_ to him – _alone_.’

And with that Harry marched out the portrait hole.

* * *

He found Draco just outside the library. He was sitting in an alcove with Pansy and a tall boy named Blaise Zabini.

‘Oi!’ he shouted, marching straight up to Draco, ‘what are you playing at? How could you do that to Neville?’

Draco looked startled. ‘Go away, Potter,’ he sneered.

Pansy was glancing worriedly between the two of them, Blaise Zabini just looked bored.

‘No! Tell me why you would do something like that!’ Harry shouted, pushing at Draco. ‘You’re acting like Nott!’

‘Don’t you dare compare me to that prat.’

‘Then stop acting like one! I can't believe you would do something like this!’ 

‘Who cares? It’s Longbottom,’ Draco drawled.

Harry took a step back.

‘You!' Harry bellowed, 'You’re meant to care! You're better than Nott! You stood up for Neville – he’s your friend!’

Draco’s face was scrunched up and he looked pained as he stared at Harry for a long moment.

'Harry, I tried to tell him -' Pansy started but Draco cut her off.

‘Why would I be friends with a Gryffindor?’

Harry stood frozen to the spot. He glanced up at the three Slytherins; Pansy looked pained, Blaise kicked his shoe on the ground awkwardly, and Draco - Draco had that horrible steely eyed stare as he stood, pointy chin held high, and fists clenched at his sides. Harry didn't know what to do. He couldn't believe it. So he turned around and trudged back to his Common Room, all the while shaking his head trying to rid his mind of that cold gaze.

* * *

The next morning in Defense Against the Dark Arts, while copying down different ways of treating werewolf bites, Ron was still going on about what he would’ve done if he had gone with Harry to speak with Malfoy.

‘He wouldn’t have known what hit him – I’ve always known this is what would happen. Just a matter of time before he showed his true colours.’

‘It just doesn’t make any sense – Draco’s always been decent to Neville,’ Hermione said, for the hundredth time. ‘Anyway, I spoke to Pansy after breakfast this morning and she agrees – something is definitely wrong.’

‘Oh, please, nothing’s wrong, Hermione – Malfoy’s always been a prat.’

‘Well, he’s a bit sarcastic but he’s never been mean,’ Hermione insisted.

‘Would you both shut up,’ Harry grumbled finally, slamming his hand down on the desk and making Quirrell let out a shrill squeak.

‘I don’t want to talk anymore about – _Malfoy_,’ Harry ground out, once everyone had stopped staring at them. ‘I’m going to play in that match. No matter if Snape’s the referee – I’m not letting Nott and his cronies think I’m scared. I’m not going to let Slytherin win.’

* * *

The day of the Quidditch match dawned and Ron and Hermione were in the stands, sitting next to Neville. 

‘I’ve never seen Snape look so mean,’ Ron told Hermione. Indeed, Snape looked furious as he stalked onto the field. ‘Look – they’re off. Ouch!.’

Someone had poked Ron in the back of the head. It was Draco Malfoy. He was accompanied once again by Pansy and Blaise.

‘Oi, watch it, Malfoy – Harry might let you get away with being a prat but I won’t.’

Malfoy sneered at Ron, ‘Sorry, Weasley didn’t see you there.’

Pansy and Hermione were exchanging very worried glances.

‘Wonder how long Potter’s going to stay on his broom this time? Anyone want a bet? What about you Blaise?’

Blaise just rolled his eyes. Pansy slapped Draco on the arm.

‘Draco,’ she hissed, ‘I don’t know what’s gotten into you but don’t go causing a scene.’

But it was too late because Ron, already tense from Snape refereeing wasn’t giving an inch.

‘Wouldn’t be a fair bet, would it? Considering how good your godfather is at jinxing brooms.’

This made Draco pause for a moment and something flashed across his face before he turned his icy glare on Ron and spoke very quietly.

‘What did you just say, Weasley?’

‘I said –‘ Ron started, but Hermione grabbed at his arm. Snape had just awarded Hufflepuff a penalty because George Weasley had hit a Bludger at him. Harry was far above them, and all six of them watched him circle the game like a hawk.

‘You know, Weasley,’ Draco said, not taking his eyes off Harry, ‘I think I’ve figured out why Potter hangs around you lot. It’s people he feels sorry for. There’s you, Weasley, who’s got no money, and then there’s Longbottom, who’s got no brains.’

Neville turned bright red and glared at Malfoy.

Pansy and Blaise were watching in horror.

‘I’m warning you, Malfoy – one more word –‘

‘Ron!’ said Hermione suddenly, ‘Harry -!’

‘What? Where?’

Harry had suddenly gone into a spectacular dive, which drew gasps and cheers from the crowd. Hermione stood up, her crossed fingers in her mouth, as Harry streaked toward the ground like a bullet.

‘You’re in luck, Weasley, Potter’s obviously spotted some money on the ground!’

Pansy let out a huff, ‘Honestly –'

But Ron snapped. Before Draco knew what was happening, Ron was on top of him, wrestling him to the ground. Neville hesitated, then clambered over the back seat to help. Blaise Zabini rolled his eyes again and let out a long-suffering sigh.

‘Bloody Malfoy,’ he said and picked Neville out of the whirl of fists and held him back.

Both Pansy and Hermione had stopped paying attention.

‘Come on, Harry!’ They both leaped onto their seats to watch as Harry sped straight at Snape. Even Neville had forgotten about the fight going on at their feet as they all watched Harry fly.

Up in the air, Snape turned on his broomstick just in time to see something scarlet shoot past him, missing him by inches – the next second, Harry had pulled out of the dive, his arm raised in triumph, the Snitch clasped in his hand.

* * *

‘Harry, where have you _been_?’ Hermione squeaked.

‘We won! You won! We won!’ shouted Ron, thumping Harry on the back. ‘And I gave Malfoy a black eye and –‘

‘You _what_?’ Harry asked, desperately.

‘Well-‘

‘Yes, Ronald, why don’t you tell Harry what you were doing while he was winning the match?’

Ron turned bright red and mumbled, ‘I got in a fight –‘

‘He got in a _fight _with Draco!’ Hermione exclaimed, ‘and Neville tried to join in! Honestly, if it hadn’t been for Blaise he would probably still be out cold, but thankfully Blaise and Pansy still seem to have a grasp on their sanity. As for Draco –‘

‘Can we _please _stop talking about Malfoy!’ Harry shouted finally, cutting off Hermione’s rambling. Both her and Ron watched Harry sheepishly.

‘I don’t know what’s gotten into him,’ Harry said quietly, ‘but we don’t have time to worry about it – he’s made his choice.’

‘He’s your friend Harry.’

‘Well, he doesn’t seem to think so.’

All three were quiet for awhile. Ron was looking at his feet, guiltily, but Harry noticed he was clenching his fists. Hermione, on the other hand was staring at Harry with a look so pitying and earnest he couldn’t stand it.

‘Never mind that now,’ said Harry, frustrated. ‘Let’s find an empty room - I overheard something ...’

They were closest to the library and so they sat down at a table as far back into the stacks as they could find. Harry made sure Madam Pince wasn’t lurking anywhere near, then he told them what he’d seen and heard Snape and Quirrell talking about in the clearing.

‘I reckon that’s what’s hidden under the trapdoor – the Philosopher’s Stone!’

Hermione jumped to her feet. She hadn’t looked so excited since they’d gotten back the marks for their very first piece of homework. Evidently, this news had pushed all thoughts of Slytherins out of her mind.

‘Stay there!’ she said, and sprinted through the stacks. Harry and Ron barely had time to exchange mystified looks before she was dashing back, an enormous old book in her arms.

‘I just handed this back in!’ she whispered excitedly. ‘I got it out of the library weeks ago for a bit of light reading.’

* * *

In the weeks that followed, the situation with Malfoy only got worse. He was refusing to talk to anyone who wasn’t in Slytherin and had started hanging around Nott. The two of them had become some sort of nightmarish duo, bent on tormenting Harry, while their goons, Crabbe and Goyle, pointed and laughed.

Pansy and Blaise seemed to have given up on ever speaking to Draco and were often to be found trailing Harry, Ron, and Hermione or sitting at the end of the Slytherin table and shooting Malfoy worried looks while whispering frantically.

Malfoy’s abrupt change in personality hurt Harry more than he wanted to admit. He had lost countless points for Gryffindor because he and Malfoy now had a habit of getting into huge arguments, usually just before Snape rounded a corner and took points away - only from Harry. All the while Malfoy would look on with a smirk that never quite reached his eyes.

Malfoy himself, didn’t seem remotely happy with the new order of things. Nott treated him as if he were some awful sidekick - only a few steps above Crabbe and Goyle. Harry, for the life of him, couldn’t figure out why prideful, snarky _Draco Malfoy_ would put up with it.

However, Harry didn’t feel he had much time to focus on Malfoy, he was far more concerned with the Philosopher’s Stone.

Every time they passed the third-floor corridor, Harry, Ron, and Hermione would press their ears to the door to check that Fluffy was still growling inside. Snape was sweeping about in his usual bad temper, which surely meant that the Stone was still safe. Whenever Harry passed Quirrell these days he gave him an encouraging sort of smile, and Ron had started telling people off for laughing at Quirrell's stutter.

* * *

‘Wonder what it’s like to have a peaceful life,’ Ron sighed, as evening after eveing they struggled through all the extra homework they were getting. Hermione had now started making study schedules for Harry and Ron, too. It was driving them nuts.

Then, one breakfast time, Hedwig brought Harry another note from Hagrid. He had written only two words: _It’s hatching._

Ron wanted to skip Herbology and go straight down to the hut. Hermione wouldn’t hear of it.

‘Hermione, how many times in our lives are we going to see a dragon hatching?’

‘We’ve got lessons, we’ll get into troubled, and that’s nothing to what Hagrid’s going to be in when someone finds out what he’s doing –‘

‘Shut up!’ Harry whispered.

Malfoy was only a few feet away and he stopped dead to listen. _How much had he heard?_ Harry didn’t know if they could ever trust Malfoy again, but he could only hope that he hadn’t heard.

Ron and Hermione argued all the way to Herbology and in the end, Hermione agreed to run down to Hagrid’s with the other two during morning break. When the bell sounded from the castle at the end of their lesson, the three of them dropped their trowels at once and hurried through the grounds to the edge of the forest. Hagrid greeted them, looking flushed and excited.

‘It’s nearly out.’ He ushered them inside.

The egg was lying on the table. There were deep cracks in it. Something was moving inside; a funny clicking noise was coming from it.

They all drew their chairs up to the table and watched with bated breath.

All at once there was a scraping noise and the egg split open. The baby dragon flopped onto the table. It wasn’t exactly pretty; Harry thought it looked like a crumpled black umbrella. Its spiny wings were huge compared to its skinny jet body, it had a long snout with wide nostrils, the stubs of horns and bulging, orange eyes.

It sneezed. A couple of sparks flew out of its snout.

‘Isn’t he _beautiful_?’ Hagrid murmured. He reached out a hand to stroke the dragon’s head. It snapped at his fingers, showing pointing fangs.

‘Bless him, look, he knows his mummy!’ said Hagrid.

Just then, there was a knock on the door. Hermione upended her chair in her panic and Ron hastily threw a tea cosy on top of the dragon. This didn’t have much effect as it was still squawking insistently, but Harry thought it would have to do.

‘Relax, you three, it’s probably Draco comin’ down ter have a look.’

Harry paled further. _Why on earth had Hagrid told Draco about the dragon?_

‘Hagrid,’ said Hermione, ‘exactly how many people have you told about this?’

‘Just you four – Draco saw the egg when he came down fer tea.’

‘For _tea_?’ Ron muttered weakly.

‘Well, I though’ he ough' ter know – it’s his namesake after all?’

Hagrid opened the door.

‘Draco – come in! He’s just hatched!’

Draco stopped in the doorway, completely ignoring Hagrid ushering him inside, and stared at the three of them.

‘Uh, maybe I should come back later …’

The dragon sneezed and the tea cosy set on fire.

Hagrid rushed over, cooing all the while. Hermione eventually managed to put the fire out by smothering it with one of Hagrid’s massive boots, and after all of the commotion, the four of them found themselves seated around Hagrid’s huge table, staring at a freshly hatched dragon and feeling very uncomfortable.

* * *

Harry thought that keeping a dragon a secret together would be enough to bring Draco back into their group but it seemed to have the opposite effect. After the tea at Hagrid's, Malfoy only seemed to get more horrible.

Everyone was still very on edge trying to figure out why Draco was behaving the way he was. Hermione was developing a slight eye twitch as she couldn’t even talk to Pansy about it because she didn’t even know about the dragon.

Hagrid still insisted that Draco was helping him with the dragon but this only left Harry all the more confused. For one, he didn’t understand why anyone would want to care for a dragon – the thing was an absolute menace – and for the other, every time he tried to speak to Draco about it it would start off another huge row.

Harry supposed that just because Draco didn’t want to be friends with them, it didn’t mean he minded Hagrid. Ron, however, took Draco’s involvement with the dragon to mean something much more sinister.

‘Well, he’s obviously trying to get Hagrid sacked – and the best way to do that would be to gather information!’

Hermione’s eye twitch had gotten a lot worse after that conversation.

They now spent most of their free time in Hagrid’s darkened hut, trying to reason with him.

‘Just let him go,’ Harry urged. ‘Set him free.’

‘I can’t,’ said Hagrid. ‘He’s too little. He’d die.’

They looked at the dragon. It had grown three times in length in just a week. Smoke kept fuming out of its nostrils. Hagrid hadn’t been doing his gamekeeping duties because the dragon was keeping him so busy. There were empty brandy bottles and chicken feathers all over the floor.

‘I’ve decided to call him Norbert,’ said Hagrid, looking at the dragon with misty eyes. ‘He really knows me now, watch. Norbert! Norbert! Where’s Mummy?’

‘He’s lost his marbles,’ Ron muttered in Harry’s ear.

‘Hagrid,’ said Harry loudly, ‘give it two weeks and Norbert’s going to be as long as your house. Anyone could walk past and see him and go straight to Dumbledore.’

‘Yeah,’ Ron agreed, ‘like Malfoy.’

‘Don’t start goin’ on about Draco now – he’s been a good lad!’ Hagrid shook his head and let out a huge sigh, ‘But he keeps telling' me the same thing. I – I know I can’t keep him forever, but I jus’ can’t dump him, can’t.’

Harry suddenly turned to Ron.

‘Charlie,’ he said.

* * *

They would have felt sorry for Hagrid when the time came for him to say good-bye to Norbert if they hand’t been so worried about what they had to do.

How they managed to get the crate back up to the castle, they never knew. Midnight ticked nearer as they heaved Norbert up the marble staircase in the entrance hall and along the dark corridors. Up another staircase, then another – even one of Harry’s shortcuts didn’t make the work much easier.

‘Nearly there!’ Harry panted as they reached the corridor beneath the tallest tower.

Then a sudden movement ahead of them made them almost drop the crate. Forgetting that they were already invisible, they shrank into the shadows, staring at the dark outline of two people grappling with each other ten feet away. A lamp flared.

Professor McGonagall, in a tartan bathrobe and a hair net had Malfoy by the ear.

‘Detention!’ she shouted. ‘And twenty points from Slytherin! Wandering around in the middle of the night, how _dare _you –‘

‘You don’t understand, Professor. I needed to check … something. I needed to make sure – but I –’

‘No excuses, Mr. Malfoy. Come on – I shall see Professor Snape about you!’

Harry and Hermione stood a long while at the bottom of the steep spiral staircase after that. Malfoy had looked genuinely worried. Harry had know idea what he had been doing – he didn’t seem to be trying to tell on Hagrid – in fact, he seemed to want to make sure they _succeeded_ in getting Norbert away. And now he had no idea what was happening; he was being led away after losing points for his house and getting a detention.

‘I hope he’s okay,’ Hermione whispered.

Harry agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello dear readers, here's Chapter Six!
> 
> I hope you like it - I have a feeling people aren't going to enjoy Draco being a bully in this chapter but it can't all be sunshine and rainbows. It'll all be explained next chapter but I think most of you will guess it has something to do with Draco seeing his father over the holidays.
> 
> Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy. Thank you to everyone who has left kudos and commented, a new update should be posted within a week. I know I said that I don't have a schedule but I would like to at least get a chapter out once a week if possible.
> 
> Until then, Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus!


	7. THE FORBIDDEN FOREST

The following morning, notes were delivered to Harry, Hermione, and Neville at the breakfast table. They were all the same:

_Your detention will take place at eleven o’clock tonight._

_Meet Mr. Filch in the entrance hall._

_Professor M. McGonagall_

But, no sooner had Harry finished reading his note than he saw Pansy Parkinson storming over to their table, wearing a look that could kill. Ron flinched as she sat down, _violently_, and glared at the four of them.

‘Care to explain,’ she said in a quiet, menacing voice, ‘just _what_ has been going on?’

This proved to be too much for Neville, who had turned ghostly white, and who promptly stood up, squeaked, and then ran out of the Great Hall.

Ron coughed awkwardly as he watched Neville leave. Pansy slammed her hand down on the table and they all jumped.

‘_Why _has Draco gotten a detention along with you idiots?’

‘Well –‘ Harry started.

‘_Because_, you see,' Pansy interrupted, 'it’s different in Slytherin. You don’t just lose house points or get a detention – _everyone_ knows and no one – _no one_, lets you live it down.’ She paused here to glare at them some more.

‘Now, I know Draco’s gone off his rocker but that doesn’t mean I'm going to put up with Nott torturing him even more. So - _explain_.’

Hermione sat up very straight, and started at once, ‘Honestly, Pansy, it was just meant to be Harry and me - well, Harry, Ron and me - but Norbert bit him and there was a lot of puss and thank goodness Madame Pomfrey doesn't ask too many questions because it was looking very green for a minute there ... But, we had a plan - and given the circumstances I think it was a very good plan ... We didn’t mean for Neville to get involved - I'm still not quite sure how he found out in the first place - I think he's still angry about missing the fight at Quidditch - But we didn't tell him! We didn’t even tell Draco about what we were doing – he found out about the dragon all on his own ... Really, Hagrid should have known better in the first place. A _dragon_ \- I mean, honestly ... But Draco should have known better himself! He doesn’t have a cloak – and to go about taunting Neville –‘

Thankfully Pansy interrupted, as Hermione was turning blue from lack of breath.

‘Wait - _dragon_?' Pansy's eyes bugged out of her head. 'Actually, I don’t want to know - don’t tell me! The troll was bad enough.’ She slumped back in her seat and put her head in her hands. 

‘Now, I obviously don’t have half a clue what’s going on,' She was massaging her temples, looking a bit deranged. 'You lot seem to be more trouble than you’re worth - but Draco was happy when we were all chummy and it’s exhausting putting up with his evil twin - I haven’t had a good night’s sleep since Christmas! I need a break. _So ... _you idiots are going to fix it.’

Harry spluttered, ‘_How_? It’s not like I started it – it’s all Malfoy –'

‘I don’t want to hear it, Potter,’ Pansy hissed, standing, finally, ‘you just better have things sorted out by tomorrow or else there’ll be hell to pay.’

Harry shared a bewildered look with Ron as Pansy exited the Hall. Hermione promptly folded over and dropped her head onto the pile of books in front of her, letting out a groan.

‘Well,’ Ron said, looking over at Hermione, ‘nice knowing you lot.’

* * *

At eleven o’clock that night, they said good-bye to Ron in the common room and went down to the entrance hall with Neville. Filch was already there – and so was Malfoy.

‘Follow me,’ said Filch, lighting a lamp and leading them outside.

‘I bet you’ll think twice about breaking a school rule again, won’t you, eh?’ he said, leering at them.

‘Oh yes … hard work and pain are the best teachers if you ask me. … It’s just a pity they let the old punishments die out … hang you by your wrists from the ceiling for a few days, I’ve got the chains still in my office, keep ‘em well oiled in case they’re ever needed. … Right, off we go, and don’t think of running off, now, it’ll be worse for you if you do.’

The moon was bright, but clouds scudding across it kept throwing them into darkness. Ahead, Harry could see the lighted windows of Hagrid’s hut. Then they heard a distant shout.

‘Is that you, Filch? Hurry up, I want ter get started.’

Harry’s heart rose; if they were going to be working with Hagrid it wouldn’t be so bad. His relief must have showed in his face, because Filch said, ‘I suppose you think you’ll be enjoying yourself with that oaf? Well, think again, boy – it’s into the forest you’re going and I’m much mistaken if you’ll all come out in one piece.’

At this, Neville let out a little moan, and Malfoy stopped dead in his tracks.

‘The forest?’ he repeated, and he didn’t sound quite as cool as usual. ‘We can’t go in there at night – there’s all sorts of things in there – werewolves, I heard.’

Neville clutched the sleeve of Harry’s robe and made a choking noise.

‘That’s your problem, isn’t it?’ said Filch, his voice cracking with glee. ‘Should’ve thought of them werewolves before you got in trouble, shouldn’t you?’

Hagrid came striding toward them out of the dark, Fang at his heel. He was carrying his large crossbow, and a quiver of arrows hung over his shoulder.

‘Abou’ time,’ he said. ‘I bin waitin’ fer half an hour already. All right, you four?’

‘I shouldn’t be too friendly to them, Hagrid,’ said Filch coldly, ‘they’re here to be punished, after all.’

‘That’s why yer late, is it?’ said Hagrid, frowning at Filch. ‘Bin lecturin’ them, eh? ‘Snot your place ter do that. Yeh’ve done yer bit, I’ll take over from here.’

‘I’ll be back at dawn,’ said Filch, ‘for what’s left of them,’ he added nastily, and he turned and started back toward the castle, his lamp bobbing away in the darkness.

Malfoy now turned to Hagrid.

‘I’m not going in that forest,’ he said, and Harry was surprised to hear the note of real panic in his voice.

‘Nonsense, Draco – yer’ll be fine, nothin’ ter worry about,’ Hagrid said patting Malfoy’s shoulder.

‘But this is dangerous!’ Malfoy said, shrugging off Hagrid’s hand. ‘If my father heard about this – I thought we’d be copying lines, or something – if he knew, he’d –‘

‘_Draco_,’ Hagrid said firmly. Harry was shocked that Malfoy stopped his rambling. He was still pale as a ghost but he stood up straighter.

‘I heard what yeh did fer me – what all o’ yer did,’ Hagrid said turning to Harry, Hermione, and Neville. ‘I’m sure Harry and Hermione had it handled but thank you – both of you, fer makin’ sure yer friends were okay.’

At those last few words Neville looked quite proud but Malfoy blushed a deep scarlet and scowled. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

Hagrid looked at Malfoy, confused. He was looking at Hagrid furiously. ‘They’re not my friends.’ Malfoy ground out petulantly.

‘Oh yer not still goin’ on about that nonsense? No matter what yeh say, you proved you lot know how ter stick together.’

Malfoy looked as if he would now prefer going into the forest than face this turn of conversation. 

‘Righ’,’ Hagrid pressed on, awkwardly, ‘Copyin’ lines, eh Draco? Tha’ ain’ no good ter anyone. Yeh’ll do summat useful! Now, listen carefully, ‘cause it’s dangerous what we’re gonna do tonight, an’ I don’ want no one takin’ risks. Follow me over here a moment.’

He led them to the very edge of the forest. Holding his lamp high, he pointed down a narrow, winding earth track that disappeared into the thick black trees. A light breeze lifted their hair as they looked into the forest.

‘Look there,’ said Hagrid, ‘see that stuff shinin’ on the ground? Silvery stuff? That’s unicorn blood. There’s a unicorn in there bin hurt badly by summat. This is the second time in a week. I found one dead last Wednesday. We’re gonna try an’ find the poor thing. We might have ter put it out of its misery.’

‘And what if whatever hurt the unicorn finds us first?’ asked Malfoy, indignantly.

‘There’s nothin’ that lives in the forest that’ll hurt yeh if yer with me or Fang,’ said Hagrid. ‘An’ keep ter the path. Right, now, we’re gonna split inter two parties an’ follow the trail in diff’rent directions. There’s blood all over the place, it must’ve bin stagerin’ around since last night at least.’

‘I want Fang,’ said Malfoy quickly, looking at Fang’s long teeth.

‘All right, but I warn yeh, he’s a coward,’ said Hagrid.

‘So me, Neville, an’ Hermione’ll go one way an’ Draco, Harry, an’ Fang’ll go the other.’

Harry and Draco both looked at each other in horror.

‘Hagrid –‘ Harry said through gritted teeth, but Hagrid ignored him.

‘Now, if any of us finds the unicorn, we’ll send up green sparks, right? Get yer wands out an’ practice now – that’s it – an’ if anyone gets in trouble, send up red sparks, an’ we’ll all come an’ find yeh – so be careful – let’s go.’

The forest was black and silent. A little way into it they reached a fork in the earth path. Harry made one last attempt to avoid Malfoy.

‘Hagrid – _ow_!’

Hermione had stood on his foot. Harry shot her a betrayed look.

‘Remember what Pansy said,’ Hermione whispered, ‘talk to him!’

With that, she shoved him forward and he followed Malfoy and Fang down the second path.

* * *

They walked in silence, their eyes on the ground. Every now and then a ray of moonlight through the branches above lit a spot of silver-blue blood on the fallen leaves.

Harry was furious with Hermione. _Why was it up to him to fix Malfoy?_ He was furious with Pansy – _if sodding Malfoy was so important to her then why couldn’t she help him?_

Malfoy was walking up in front of Harry, following Fang. The moonlight was glinting on his pale hair, bright as the puddles of silvery unicorn blood they were following.

Most of all, Harry was furious with Malfoy. _Where did he get off acting like such a git? _Harry thought they had been friends. Despite being in different houses, despite their families – he thought he could trust Draco.

With a pang, Harry remembered the snitch Draco had bought him for Christmas. He still had it, safely tucked away in his trunk, along with the note that he hadn’t been able to look at since term had re-started. Another surge of bitter anger welled up inside of Harry and before he knew it he had run forward and pushed Draco off the path.

Draco yelped in shock and fell to the mossy ground. Harry vaguely heard Fang bark in the distance.

‘What in Merlin are you doing, Potter!’ Draco shouted up at Harry from his place on the ground. He looked so surprised that Harry almost laughed. Almost.

‘I could ask you the same thing!’ Harry shouted right back. ‘I mean, bloody hell, Malfoy! What _have_ you been doing?’ Harry was fuming. He kicked at a mossy tree stump - with the same foot Hermione had stood on earlier - and fell back against a nearby tree as his foot exploded in pain. He thought he could hear running water; there must be a stream somewhere close by.

‘Potter, don’t pick a fight with a ruddy tree stump!’ Draco said as he dragged himself up and fended off Fang who was trying to nudge him back onto the path.

‘I’ll fight with whatever I want, Malfoy,’ Harry said petulantly. ‘Not like you care.’ He muttered bitterly as he tried to stand up properly without leaning against the tree.

‘I care!’ Draco said, ‘I bloody care a lot all right? Do you know how exhausting it is knowing you, Potter – every week it’s something new – Remembrall’s and trolls and then, Merlin – _dragons_! You’re impossible!’

‘I’m impossible?’ Harry bellowed, limping over to Draco. ‘You’re the one who can’t decide if you want to be friends with me! One minute we’re fighting trolls together and the next you refuse to speak to me and pick a fight with any Gryffindor in the vicinity. What’s wrong with you?’

Harry had walked up very close to Draco, and could see his grey eyes turned almost white by the moonlight.

‘I mean, you send me that note and the snitch for Christmas and I think that I finally have real friends and then – and then …’

Harry broke off. His heart was hammering. He missed Draco terribly.

Draco was staring back at Harry with a pained expression. He almost looked close to tears.

‘Damn you, Potter,’ Draco whispered, ‘of course I got you that snitch.’

There was a whistle of wind in the trees and Fang barked.

‘I – ‘ Draco began. ‘I want to be your friend, Harry.’

Harry didn’t understand Draco at all.

‘Draco –‘

‘You think it’s so easy, don’t you?’ Draco hissed and took a step back. Tears really where in his eyes now. ‘I want to be your friend – but I can’t!’

‘What d’you mean –‘

‘Just shut it, Potter, and lets get on with it.’

Draco stormed forward, stumbling slightly over tree roots as he made his way back to the path and set off down it at a great pace.

‘Draco, wait!’ Harry yelled, but he was ignored. He half ran, half limped to catch up.

They were going deeper into the forest, until the path became almost impossible to follow because the trees were so thick. All the while, Harry tried to get Draco to explain. He could see his hands clenching at his sides and his eyes narrowing into slits.

‘I just don’t understand why!’ Harry said with a huff, finally managing to stop in front of Draco.

‘Move out the way, Potter’

‘No,' Harry said firmly, setting his shoulders. 'Why?’

Draco shoved at him. 'Move.'

‘Why?’

‘Potter,' Draco seethed.

‘_Why_?'

‘Because of my father!’ Draco bellowed out into the forest.

Harry took a step back.

‘Honestly, how dim can you get? Of course it’s my father!’ Draco threw his hands up and slumped against a tree.

‘It’s all his bloody fault, _"I won’t have a son of mine associating with blood-traitors and mudbloods"_ – he heard about the troll, he heard that I broke school rules for _Granger_.’

Harry felt like he had had all the air knocked out of him.

‘You should have seen his face, ‘ Draco scoffed._ "You’ll go back to school, Draco, and uphold the traditions of this house"_ and so I did – I bloody did, Harry.’

Draco was crying. Tears were streaming down his face. The forest seemed a very quiet place without the shouting. Even Fang had stopped barking.

‘You don’t know how hard it is, Harry. I – I can’t disappoint him.’

‘Draco – ‘ Harry said, taking a step towards him.

‘And it’s not like I could lie to him – even if I wanted to – everyone in Slytherin knows about us. Nott’s relentless – always going on about how I was your sidekick, that I was a stain on my house.’

Draco seemed to be rushing to get out everything at once, ‘And it’s not like anyone can do anything – Pansy and Blaise try, and I thought – that maybe ... I thought Greg and Vince would stick up for me but they only care about power. That’s all anyone in that sodding house cares about. So, I _can’t_ not have it, Harry. _I can’t be left alone_.’

Harry thought Draco had never looked so small than in that moment, leaning back against a tree in the dark forest, with moonlight casting strange shadows across his face.

‘You’re not alone, Draco’ Harry whispered taking another step towards him. ‘You said it yourself, you’ve got Pansy and Blaise, and – ‘ Harry gulped, ‘you’ve got us. You’ve got me, and Hermione, and Neville, and even Ron – we’re on your side, Draco.’

Draco looked up at Harry finally, eyes shining.

‘Yeah,’ Harry said, nodding, ‘you’ve got us.’

‘But –‘

‘No buts – Nott’s horrid, and you’re miserable – you don’t deserve it, Draco.’

Harry had finally reached Draco and pulled him into a hug. Draco tensed up for a second before relaxing with a sob.

They stood there for a while. With the quiet sounds of the forest and Draco’s gasping for breath. Harry felt something fluttering in his chest - he had never felt so happy or so sad.

‘I never did thank you for that snitch,’ Harry said into the quiet, once Draco had stopped crying and was just leaning into his shoulder.

‘I told you, you didn’t need to practice.’

Harry moved away from Draco and looked. He was smiling - _finally_.

‘I thought you didn’t see the match?’

Draco smirked, ‘Didn’t need to – knew you’d win.’

They stood there grinning at each other until they were startled back into focus by Fang’s bark.

Harry shook himself and cleared his throat. For the first time he focused on their surroundings. There were thick pools of blood ahead of them, and it only seemed to be getting thicker as they started along the path again. There were splashes on the roots of a tree, as though the poor creature had been thrashing around in pain close by. Harry could see a clearing ahead, through the tangled branches of an ancient oak.

‘Look –‘ he murmured, holding out his arm to stop Draco.

Something bright white was gleaming on the ground.

They inched closer.

It was the unicorn all right, and it was dead. Harry had never seen anything so beautiful and sad. It’s bright hair reminded him of Draco. It’s long, slender legs were stuck out at odd angles where it had fallen and its mane was spread pearly-white on the dark leaves.

Harry had taken one step toward it when a slithering sound made him freeze where he stood.

A bush on the edge of the clearing quivered … Then, out of the shadows, a hooded figure came crawling across the ground like some stalking beast. Harry, Draco, and Fang stood transfixed. The cloaked figure reached the unicorn, lowered its head over the wound in the animals side, and began to drink its blood.

‘AAAAAAAAAAARGH!’

Draco let out a terrible scream and clutched at Harry – Fang bolted. The hooded figure raised its head and looked right at Harry – unicorn blood was dribbling down its front. It got to its feet and came swiftly toward them – neither of them moved for fear.

Then a pain like he’d never felt before pierced his head; it was as though his scar were on fire. Half blinded, he staggered backward, pulling Draco. He heard hooves behind him, galloping, and something jumped clean over them both, charging at the figure.

The pain in Harry’s head was so bad his knees gave out but Draco held him up.

It took a minute or two to pass. When he looked up, the figure had gone. A centaur was standing over them; he had white-blond hair and a palomino body.

‘Are you all right?’ said the centaur, walking over to them as Harry stood up straight.

‘Yes – thank you – what _was _that?’

The centaur didn’t answer. He had astonishingly blue eyes, like pale sapphires. He looked at them both, his eyes lingering on the scar that stood out, livid, on Harry’s forehead.’

‘You are the Potter boy,’ he said.

‘Oh, here we go,’ Draco muttered.

‘And your companion, if I’m not mistaken, is from house Malfoy.' The centaur turned his piercing gaze on Draco. 'You are of particular interest to me, boy - your fate seems far more mutable than the rest.’ 

‘You two had better get back to Hagrid. The forest is not safe at this time – especially for you, Harry Potter. Can you ride? It will be quicker this way.’

‘My name is Firenze,’ he added, as he lowered himself on to his front legs so that Harry and Draco could clamber onto his back.

There was suddenly a sound of more galloping from the other side of the clearing. Ronan and Bane came bursting through the trees, their flanks heaving and sweaty.

‘Firenze!’ Bane thundered. ‘What are you doing? You have two humans on your back! Have you no shame? Are you a common mule?’

‘Do you realise who this is?’ said Firenze. ‘This is the Potter boy. The quicker he leaves the forest, the better.’

‘What have you been telling him?’ growled Bane. ‘Remember, Firenze, we are sworn not to set ourselves against the heavens. Have we not read what is to come in the movement of the planets?’

Harry felt Draco grip onto him tighter.

Ronan pawed the ground nervously. ‘I’m sure Firenze thought he was acting for the best,’ he said in his gloomy voice.

Bane kicked his back legs in anger.

‘For the best! What is that to do with us? Centaurs are concerned with what has been foretold! It is not our business to run around like donkeys after stray humans in our forest!’

Firenze suddenly reared on to his hind legs in anger, so that Harry had to grab his shoulders to stay on and to make sure Draco didn’t fall off.

‘Do you not see that unicorn?’ Firenze bellowed at Bane. ‘Do you not understand why it was killed? Or have the planets not let you in on that secret? I set myself against what is lurking in this forest, Bane, yes, with humans alongside me if I must.’

And Firenze whisked around; with both Harry and Draco clutching on as best they could, they plunged off into the trees, leaving Ronan and Bane behind them.

Harry didn’t have a clue what was going on.

‘Why were they so angry?’ he asked. ‘What was that thing you saved us from anyway?’

Firenze slowed to a walk, warned them to keep their heads bowed in case of low-hanging branches, but did not answer Harry’s question. They made their way through the trees in silence for so long that Harry thought Firenze didn’t want to talk to him anymore. They were passing through a particularly dense patch of trees when Draco lost patience.

‘Could you answer his bloody question – _please_.’

Firenze suddenly stopped and let out a disbelieving laugh.

‘Harry Potter, your companion is very impatient.’

Draco let out a huff.

‘Do you know what unicorn blood is used for?’

‘No,’ said Harry, startled by the odd question. ‘We’ve only used the horn and the tail hair in Potions.’

‘That is because it is a monstrous thing, to slay a unicorn,’ said Firenze. ‘Only one who had nothing to lose, and everything to gain, would commit such a crime. The blood of a unicorn will keep you alive, even if you are an inch from death, but at a terrible price. You have slain something pure and defenceless to save yourself, and you will have but a half-life, a cursed life, from the moment the blood touches your lips.’

Harry felt Draco shivering against his back, and turned around to look at his pale face, dappled silver in the moonlight.

‘But who’d be that desperate?’ he wondered aloud. ‘If you’re going to be cursed forever, death’s better, isn’t it?’

‘It is,’ Firenze agreed, ‘unless all you need is to stay alive long enough to drink something else – something that will bring you back to full strength and power – something that will mean you can never die. Mr. Potter, do you know what is hidden in the school at this very moment?’

‘The Philosopher’s Stone! Of course – the Elixir of Life!’

‘Wait – what?’ Draco gasped, squeezing at Harry’s side, ‘What do you mean the Philosopher’s Stone? Dumbledore’s not that barmy!’ Harry – ‘

‘Shh,’ Harry hushed Draco, ‘I’ll explain later.’

‘Your companion is right to be worried, Harry Potter. Who has waited many years to return to power, who has clung to life, awaiting their chance?’

It was as though an iron fist had clenched suddenly around Harry’s heart. Over the rustling of the trees, he seemed to hear once more what Hagrid had told him on the night they had met: ‘Some say he died. Codswallop, in my opinion. Dunno if he had enough human left in him to die.’

Draco was shaking terribly now. Harry reached round to grab his hand and clenched it tightly in his own.

‘Do you mean,’ Harry croaked, ‘that was _Vol_–‘

‘Harry! Draco! Are you all right?’

Hermione was running toward them down the path, Hagrid puffing along behind her.

‘We’re fine,’ said Harry, hardly knowing what he was saying. ‘The unicorn’s dead, Hagrid, it’s in that clearing back there.’

‘This is where I leave you,’ Firenze murmured as Hagrid hurried off to examine the unicorn. ‘You are safe now.’

Harry slid off his back and helped Draco down after him, who was still deathly pale.

‘Good luck, Harry Potter,’ said Firenze. ‘The planets have been read wrongly before now, even by centaurs. I hope this is one of those times.’


End file.
